To Keep You
by whitetyger123
Summary: Low self esteem. Bad past. Horrible self image. These are only some of the things Matthew deals with every day. AlMa, rp by me and schoolgirl-cheesesculpture, AU. Rated M for yaoi and mature themes.
1. Chapter 1

The sound of retching echoed through the small bathroom a second before splashing joined it. A couple more dry heaves, and Matthew raised his head from the toilet bowl. He held back the extra bile as he flushed and went to the sink to wash his mouth. A quick rinse with mouthwash after brushing his mouth out violently was all he needed afterwards. After all, if anyone was to find out what he was doing to himself, they would never leave him alone.

Opening the door silently, Matthew padded over to his couch where Alfred was watching some new action movie with a thing of popcorn on his lap. That was mostly the reason why he excused himself to go to the bathroom; that and they had already eaten a large meal an hour ago. Alfred might be able to boast a black hole for a stomach and never have to worry about his weight, but Matthew wasn't so gifted.

Slipping in the other side of him that didn't have the food, Matthew put his head on his boyfriends shoulder and whispered. "Good movie so far?"

"Yeah, you totally missed the part when the guy got his head chopped off by the dude that was actually an alien." He munched on more popcorn, noticing how Matt wasn't eating any. "Are you feeling sick again? Maybe you have an allergy or something."

Shrugging his shoulders, he just cuddled closer. "I'm fine. I must have just gotten some mild food poisoning or something." What else was he supposed to say? After all, he was staying skinny for Al so that he wouldn't become disgusted with him. "It really isn't anything."

"Food poisoning? Isn't that serious?" He asked, suddenly concerned. He was always hearing about people dying from food poisoning when they ate blowfish or something. Of course, they didn't have any blowfish for supper, but it still must be bad!

"Only if it's serious enough. If I get any worse I'll make sure to tell you. I love you too much to have you worry about me." Matthew let out a small laugh as Alfred jumped when one of the main characters was shot rapidly. Really, for being a self proclaimed hero he could be endearingly fearful.

"Sounds good." Alfred said, leaning over and giving Matt a quick kiss on the lips before going back to watching the movie. It was great how he didn't have to hide anything from him, even the fact that he got afraid easily at movies or ghost stories. Even if he loved them.

Another hour of the movie passed with various shudders, jumps and small shrieks accompanied by Alfred muttering 'No, don't go down in the cellar!' before the credits of the film scrolled on the screen. "Worth buying?" Matthew asked with a smile as Alfred got to work shutting off the dvd player and tv.

It was always the small moments between the two of them that reminded Matt just why he was so attracted to Alfred. Not to mention why he needed to make sure Al was still attracted to him as well.

"Any American movie is worth buying. But you should sleep with me tonight or else I will have nightmares." Of course he sometimes had nightmares, but not because of movies. It was basically just an excuse, and one they both saw through.

"Or we could do something else to keep you mind off the movie." Matthew proposed with a grin. He should still be optimal for Alfred's tastes, so they would both be able to enjoy themselves. Wrapping his arms around his boyfriend, he kissed the vein pulsing in his neck lightly; his tongue flicking out to taste his smooth skin.

"Wow, you're like a mind reader." Alfred said, wrapping his arms around the thin waist and pulling the Canadian closer. "Quick, what am I thinking now?" He asked, already getting Matthew undressed. It wasn't like they had never had sex on a couch before.

Smirking playfully, Matthew helped remove his hoodie before getting Alfred's shirt off. "You're not thinking. We both know which head is in control." As to prove his point, he pressed his palm against the small bulge growing in the American's jeans.

Gasping slightly, mostly in jest, Alfred pretended to be shocked. "I am insulted. I was actually thinking about how sexy you look." He said, taking off the shirt with a maple leaf on it. It was true, he loved the look of the Canadian. Although that wasn't all he loved.

"Although I don't really deserve it..." He mumbled, making sure that Alfred wouldn't hear. "Oh well, that still proves which of your halves are in control right now." Not like it was a bad thing either. Matthew's erection had started to push somewhat painfully against the zipper of his pants as his mind went into overdrive about what was happening. Still, he grasped a handful of Alfred's hair and brought their lips together harshly.

Moving so that Matthew was under him, Alfred kissed him back, starting on his pants. Of course his own length was starting to make his pants uncomfortably tight, but he wanted to get his boyfriend fully undressed as quickly as possible. If he had his way, they would both be naked whenever alone in the house.

Raising his hips into the hands undoing his pants, Matthew moaned appreciatively once they were off as well as his boxers. He wasn't completely hard yet, but it still felt nice to have it open to the cool air of his living room. He made short work of getting Alfred's jean's undone and down to his thighs, but he couldn't get them down the rest of the way. It didn't matter to him though, as his hand jumped from his short blond hair to his length to stroke it lightly.

Groaning at the feeling on his cock, Al returned the favour, stroking Matthew's twice. But then he stopped and gave a laugh. "Alright, you always hate it when we don't use lube, so you have to go get it."

Sighing, the Canadian rolled his eyes semi-jokingly and slid out from under him. Really, he was on top so it would make more sense for him to go. Despite his thoughts, Matthew still all but ran to his bedroom to grab their thing of lube. When he got back to the couch, Al's grin was so infectious that he broke out in his own and put their lips together firmly as he got under him again.

Pulling away, Alfred yanked Matthew down on top of his legs. "How about like this? Because I'm tired after the movie." He gave a laugh, basically just wanting to see the Canadian on top of him.

"If anything you just want me to be as close as possible incase you think about something scary." It wasn't like he wouldn't do it anyways, since he was still light enough to not be a burden on him. Well it wouldn't be bad if he lost a bit more weight but he couldn't do anything about it.

Laughing, the American took the thing of lube. "Well that may be true." He said, leaning in and taking off Matt's glasses. "Or maybe I want to be close to you so I can see you better." He also took off his own glasses.

Matt gave a slightly strained laugh. "Then why did you take you glasses off, hmm?" Well it was a good thin since he didn't want Al to be able to see him and notice that he hadn't been losing too much weight yet.

Still, he leaned forward and put his hands on Alfred's chest so he could have access to his hole. Joining their lips together, Matthew didn't hear the lid open over the sounds of his own thoughts.

"I took our glasses off so that we will have to be close as possible to see each other." He warmed the lube up with his fingers and started rubbing around his entrance. He heard Matthew give a loud moan.

Pressing his face against Alfred's neck, Matthew raised on his knees to get their bodies closer. As the finger slipped in, he moaned again and rubbed their cocks against each other. "Al..." He breathed across the other's neck.

"Mm, you always know how to make me want to be inside you." He whispered, before licking that pale neck. Matthew was always so sexy he just couldn't help himself.

"Isn't that my job?" He asked quietly, rocking his hips against the finger inside him and in turn creating more friction between them. Matthew was glad that Al still wanted to have sex with him, but the skinnier he got, the more attractive he would be. Yes, he still felt somewhat awkward every time he purged, but he knew that it was going to help him in the long run.

Adding a second finger, Alfred moved them around, looking for his prostate. As he felt Matthew clench his fingers and give an even louder moan, he figured he found it.

Still rocking on the others lap, Matthew brought their lips together for a sloppy, lust filled kiss. It ended up becoming more teeth and tongue than lips, but they both liked it that way.

"Are you ready for another finger?" He asked, not wanting to go too fast but still wanting to get to it. Foreplay was always nice but sometimes it just became too much for his patience.

"Yessss." The Canadian let his word draw out as he continued to rub them against each other. They were both incredibly hard now and precum was beading on Matthew's cock.

Pushing his third finger in, Alfred pulled them apart to stretch him more. Bringing Matthew's head closer, they kissed more, opening their mouths immediately to allow prying tongues.

The pressure from their bodies gyrating together wasn't enough anymore for the smaller blond. Instead, he snaked a hand down between their bodies and rubbed both of their erections together, making them both groan appreciatively. "I'm ready now. Please..."

Nodding, Alfred took his fingers out, placing his hands on Matt's hips to help position him. "Mm I love you." he said before he felt tight warmth over his cock and gave an appreciative moan.


	2. Chapter 2

Straightening his tie for the fifth time since putting it on, Matthew ran a hand through his wavy hair and sighed. Already he was thinking of a good situation to excuse himself from the table in order to purge. He had only been doing it for about a month and a half, but it still was important for him to plan ahead. Eating a lot wasn't the problem as much as allowing his body to ingest it and make him fat.

Coming up behind him, Alfred wrapped his arms around his thin body. "You look fine. Can we get going now? I'm hungry." He wined, needing food even if it was gross French food. Leave it to Francis to pick the strangest restaurant.

"I guess. I just don't want Francis thinking I'm turning into a slob from being around you so long." His words were harsh, but his tone held a small smile. Turning around in the embrace, he gave Alfred a chaste kiss before sliding out of the hug. "And please don't show how disgusted you are at the food. It's not my favourite either but I don't say anything."

Laughing, Alfred nodded. He didn't have on a tie, hating the feel of them around his neck so he was just wearing a button up shirt with the first few buttons undone. "Well are you done getting ready? Need me to tell you that those pants don't make your butt look big?"

Cringing slightly, Matthew tried to laugh it off. "It wouldn't be a bad thing." Facing Alfred again, he tried to do up his buttons but his hands were just swatted away.

"You can suffocate yourself with that stiff collar but I'm not gonna." He gave a small smile and kissed Matthew's lips. "You look perfect."

"Thank you." It might have been partially the truth, but Matthew knew he could be better. After all, he could still lose ten more pounds easy. "We should go so we are a bit early. Knowing Arthur he and Francis are probably there by now."

"How did he talk Arthur into going on a double date?" As far as Al knew the Englishman never would have agreed to something like that.

A shy smirk pulled at Matt's lips. "I doubt that was how Francis explained tonight." All three of them knew just how Arthur felt about showing his affection to the Frenchman, never mind in front of another couple.

Smirking, Alfred moved to the door and put his jacket on. "So hopefully they have been there long enough for him to explain to him why he got a table for four." Although it wouldn't be the first time a dinner with them ended in a yelling match.

"Hopefully." Putting on his jacket as well, they left Al's house and got into his Mustang. The restaurant wasn't too far since Alfred's place was only a few minutes from the core of the city. Once they were parked, they walked in holding hands before looking around for the table Francis and Arthur were at.

"Arthur, if you want to leave then I will just have to tell them that you no longer want to be their friend." Francis said, sitting across from his boyfriend.

Before Arthur could respond with a fairly vulgar insult -which were the favourite of the blond- Matthew just put his hand on his shoulder and smiled. "I hope that's not the truth."

Alfred gave a laugh, sitting down. "Of course it's not the truth. I'm way too cool for someone to not want to be my friend." He picked up the menus, realizing too late that he had no clue what it said.

"It's not the truth only because I'm not allowed to leave. The _least_ he could have done was tell me we were meeting you here..."

Sitting down beside Francis, Matthew said, "_Bonjour_."

"_Bonjour_. But perhaps we should keep to English for the less educated at the table." Francis said with a laugh, indicating the two others.

"Hey! You shouldn't talk about Arthur like that!" Alfred said, jokingly. Making fun of the Brit was one of his favorite passtimes, right up there with spending time with Matt.

"He's talking to you like that as well, git." Arthur said, crossing his arms in defiance.

Turning his attention to his boyfriend, Arthur grumbled. "Why did you have to choose one of the only restaurants that have menus all in your inferior language?"

"Because then I can order for you and you have to eat it. Almost like the time you tried to make me eat that horribly bland mashed potatoes and meat sticks, whatever you called it." Francis gave a laugh, picking up the menu.

"It would probably be too hopeful asking if they have hamburgers, wouldn't it?" Alfred asked, giving a sigh.

Hitting Al's arm lightly, Matthew whispered. "I told you not to make fun of the food!" Picking up the menu, he muttered to his boyfriend. "Find something that you think you would like and I'll tell you what it is." Arthur was already doing the same to a louder degree with Francis.

"I already said what I want. Hamburgers." Alfred mumbled, looking at the pictures in the menu. It was just so confusing.

Francis forcefully took the menu from Arthur. "No they don't have a dish called Faggot and I wish you would stop asking for it." He said, picking something for him to eat.

"This is made of beef..." But the thing he wouldn't tell Al was exactly what part of the cow it was made from. Knowing what he ate normally though it wouldn't be a problem.

Taking away the menu completely, Francis smiled and looked to Matthew. "So how have you been? You look a little pale." He was interrupted by the waiter, so he and the Canadian ordered for the whole table.

The waiter coming was perfect because Francis' attention wouldn't be on his question any longer. He ordered a veal dish for Al and some other dish for himself. It looked good, but that didn't really matter to him. After all, it was just for taste.

"What about you Arthur? I haven't talked to you for a while." He asked politely, trying to keep him from getting upset at Francis.

Giving a noncommittal shrug, Arthur took a sip from his wine glass before answering. "I'm fine thank you. Unlike someone," with that, he glared quickly at Francis, "I haven't had much time to relax."

"You blame me for picking a career that makes more money in a day then you make in a week and I don't have to work as much." Francis said, waving his hand. He was a male model so he hardly had to work. Arthur, on the other hand, had a desk job and made just a little more than minimum wage.

"And if I made you disfigured what would you do? Perhaps not waving you natural talents in my face constantly would be a pleasant side effect."

Matthew just poured as he sipped his water. "That's not true Arthur. You're probably smarter then all of us."

"Oui, and the fact that you cannot make simple toast doesn't mean anything." Francis laughed, ducking out of the way so he wasn't hit.

Alfred leaned on Matthew. "You don't mind that I can't cook, do you?" He asked, batting his eyelashes.

"If you could cook then I'd feel worthless. Well, that and if you could clean as well." As much as they wanted to have an equal relationship, Matthew did most of the household chores in both houses. Well, only in Al's when he was there since he didn't want his boyfriend to live in a pig-sty.

"I'd be bloody surprised if an American could make anything decent."

"Hey I can make popcorn!" Alfred defended himself. He looked at Matthew. "I'm not a failure as a boyfriend am I? I'm good for things!"

Laughing quietly, Matthew nodded. "Of course your good for things."

Arthur just scoffed. "Anything outside the bedroom?"

"Arthur casually mentioning sex? What is the world coming to?" Francis laughed, becoming quiet when the food arrived. They all started eating, the conversation momentarily breaking off.

Matthew's blush still hadn't dissipated as Arthur hissed at Francis. "You know you were thinking it too! And what the bloody hell did you get me?"

"Just eat it. I promise you will like it and there is no aphrodisiac in it that will make you fuck me in the bathroom like last time." Francis whispered, just before taking a bite of his own food.

Alfred poked at his food. "This isn't hamburger."

The only hint that what Francis mumbled to his other half was embarrassing was the blush that dusted his face before he started eating. Matthew on the other hand had started to eat his own dish before elbowing Al lightly in the side. "I told you to be polite... And this is still beef." Well veal but that wasn't the point.

Only half of the table seemed to not mind eating the strange food. Alfred took a tentative bite and had to admit that it wasn't as bad as he thought it would have been.

Watching as Arthur and Alfred picked at their food, the Canadian all but devoured his before sitting back and waiting. He had about forty five minutes until he had to purge, but he didn't want to seem suspicious. Francis was looking at him strangely, but Matthew just gave an apologetic shrug.

Passing it off as an odd quirk, Francis let it go. They all had their peculiarities, so it didn't matter much to him if Matthew ate quickly. At least he liked the food.

Alfred ate slowly, not wanting to go hungry but still wanting something more fatty. What was the point of having a good metabolism if he didn't eat much?

Waiting a few more minutes, Matthew stood up slowly. "Excuse me for a minute." Making his way to the bathroom, he made sure no one had followed him before slipping in. Next, he looked under the stalls to see if anyone was there before locking himself into one.

The next steps were the same no matter where he was. His fingers were shoved down his throat until his gag reflex kicked in and he started to gag into the toilet bowl. He felt embarrassed that he needed to do this in a public place, but Matthew knew they would stay after the meal to talk so it wouldn't be enough time once they finally got home.

Once his barely digested meal was flushed down, he walked out of the stall wiping his mouth off with a shaking hand before stopping in his tracks. "F-Francis? W-What are y-you doing h-here?"

"Are you alright?" He put a hand on Matthew's shoulder, concerned. "Do you need to go home or anything?" Was it just the food that didn't agree with him? Francis hoped it was nothing serious.

"I'm fine!!" He said, almost too quickly. "I guess I j-just ate t-too fast or something. Nothing t-to worry about!" Matthew wanted to get away from Francis' inquisitive looks and just go back to the table.

Lifting an eyebrow, the Parisian followed after him. "Well either way, I'm telling Alfred to take you home. You must be feeling terrible to puke, even if you looked fine a minute ago." Alfred could make sure he was fine and got some rest.

"It's ok you don't have to tell him! I wouldn't want him to worry, I'm fine now." He really just wanted Francis to leave him alone so that he could wash out his mouth and wash his hands in privacy. "_S'il te plaît_?"

Sighing, Francis nodded. While he was worried for him, he was still a dear friend. "At least take some tums or something when you get home."

"I will, _merci _Francis." Since it didn't seem like he was going, Matthew went to the sink and swished some of the acid from his mouth before washing his hands off. "_Allons_-_y_."

Leaving the bathroom, Francis watched Matthew carefully. Something was telling him that this was a little more than just eating too quickly. They got back to the table and sat down. "_Just let me know if it happens again_." He said in French, since the Canadian didn't want Alfred to know.

"_I will_." Matthew lied through his teeth. He wasn't even sick in the first place, so there wouldn't be any reason to make Francis or anyone else worry.

Arthur on the other hand just snarled again. "Just because Alfred and I refuse to speak French doesn't mean you are allowed to tell each other secrets."

"Yeah what he said. Oh God Mattie I'm agreeing with an old man. See what you do to me?" He laughed, only slightly wondering what was said. If it was anything important Matthew would tell him later.

With a weak smile, he said. "Haha very funny. You would think you two would get along better." Judging by the glare Arthur was giving Alfred it was pretty obvious why their friendship was one of a kind.

Francis finished off his food, happy that Arthur's plate was empty. For Matthew's sake he hoped they would be finished soon so he wouldn't have to be around food much longer. He was worried about him.

Once they were all done their meals and their plates were taken away, their conversation lingered for fifteen minutes where Matthew could keep feeling Francis' worried gaze on him. He was fine, didn't he understand it? "Sorry to be a wet blanket but we better be going." Arthur said suddenly, standing up and pulling Francis with him.

"Hm, maybe there _was_ aphrodisiac in his food. _Au revoir_, Matthew." He said before he was dragged out.

"Guess we should get going too." Alfred said, standing up.

"Sounds good. Who's house tonight?" Matthew asked, trying to not to feel guilty about what he had done in the bathroom. He knew he could trust Francis to not tell anyone, but it just proved that he would have to be more careful.

"Your bed is better." Alfred said, wrapping his arm around Matthews waist as he went to pay. He didn't like his place too much because he had really thin walls.

When they walked out to Al's car, Matthew gave him a small peck on the lips before sliding into the vehicle. Once they were driving away, the Canadian mumbled. "Thank you for coming out with me."

"You know I'll go anywhere for you. I would even go to Canada, even if I would freeze to death." He shivered at the thought, pulling out of the parking lot.

Hitting his arm playfully, Matthew smiled. "It's not cold all the time. We do have summer." At least then he would be back home, even if it didn't hold the best memories.

A part of Alfred wanted to see his home town, what he had seen when he was growing up. He could even meet his family, which would be nice since Matthew never spoke of his past.

The rest of the ride to Matthew's small house was spent in semi-comfortable silence. Only slightly because Matthew was still thinking about Francis and how he was now concerned with his well being.

When they got to Matthew's house, they both got out of the car and headed up the driveway. "It was nice to get out. Lately you seem to be holed up in your or my place all the time." Alfred said, walking close to him.

Shrugging meekly, the smaller blond said. "I also work you know. I'm just not into going out as much as you are. I'd rather spend my extra time with you." That was, if Alfred still wanted to be seen with him.

Getting inside the house, Alfred pulled Matthew into a deep kiss. One hand was at his lower back, and the other tangled in his hair, keeping their whole bodies pressed up against each other. Then he pulled back, smiling. "You're so cute when you say things like that."

Pouting a bit, Matthew just shook his head. He knew better than to say anything about disagreeing with Al, but he still felt that way. Instead, he just leaned closer and kissed him again. "I'll see you in bed. I'm kinda tired."

"Alright. I'm gonna have a shower first." Alfred said, walking to the bathroom. He was starting to wonder if it wouldn't just be better to move in together, considering the amount of time they spent at each other's houses. Usually, either he was sleeping over at Matthew's house, or Matthew was sleeping over at his.

Going to the shower, Alfred turned it on, putting it to the right temperature. He gave a small sigh as he stepped into the flow of water, making his hair go back to normal since Matt had made him tame it for dinner.

Slipping his suit off, it felt nice for Matthew to not have to be so formal. Sure he was able to do so when the situation arised, but it didn't mean he enjoyed it. He only got his suit jacket off and his tie loosened before laying down on the bed, his eyes threatening to slip shut. He really was quite tired.

After he was out of the shower, Alfred wrapped a towel around his waist and went to the bedroom. There he saw Matthew laying on top of the covers, still dressed but obviously asleep. He gave a small laugh, going over to him. "Matt, wake up. Come on, at least get changed."

"Eh?" He mumbled, taking his glasses off to rub his eyes. "Oh, woops, I guess I should get changed." Matthew yawned widely as he sat up and started to take off his pants slowly.

Helping him, Alfred started pulling off his shirt and tie. He didn't throw it on the ground like he would have if they were going to have sex, because Matthew looked much too tired for that. He never seemed to have much energy now, unless they were doing something lewd.

"Thanks Al... I love you." Matthew mumbled, barely able to think never mind speak at this point. He felt extremely grateful when he was allowed to lay back down under the covers and fall asleep.

* * *

So my computer is better now! So we will god back to updating regularly. Anyway, obviously when it is italicized, that is when they are speaking French. And Faggot is apparently a real English food dish.


	3. Chapter 3

Going to the door, Alfred started putting on his worn leather jacket. "So I have to go. Tonight I can't sleep over, so I'll see you tomorrow." He said, bending down so he could give Matthew a goodbye kiss.

Making sure their glasses wouldn't knock together, Matthew grabbed onto his shirt to deepen the kiss for an extra second before pulling back. "I miss you already. _Je t'aime_."

Having figured out what that meant after Matt saying it constantly before they fell asleep after having sex, Alfred smiled. "Ditto." He started moving towards the door, but looked back and couldn't stop himself from stealing another kiss. "Bye."

"Bye." Matthew put on a smile as Alfred went out to his car. As soon as he was gone from the driveway though, he face slid into a pout. It hurt him a bit that he didn't say it back, but it _was_ Al and the Canadian should have been used to it by now.

Still, having him not come over the next day was somewhat beneficial. Matthew had been watching what he was eating around his boyfriend for a while, but never really stopped himself from eating anything. Now though, he hadn't been losing as much weight as he had hoped for and was hoping to use the time alone to get into a set diet. If Al wasn't around, hopefully it would be easier to stick to in the long run.

He had already purchased a recipe book boasting that if you sticked to it for at least a week, you were guaranteed to lose at least two pounds. The longer you stayed on its restrictive meal plans, the more weight you would lose. These next few days were a trial period if anything.

After flipping through the book to find lunch plans, he found an easy one that was just a small garden salad without dressing and started to cut up all the vegetables for it. Hopefully if the food was good for him, he wouldn't have to purge it to not get fat.

Sitting down on the couch in his living room, Matthew turned the TV on and started to watch as he nibbled his food. It didn't taste very good, but it was going to have to do.

.oOo.

Getting out from under a car, Alfred looked around for a wrench. He knew he needed the overtime, but really he would rather be spending the time with Matthew. Deciding not to think about it anymore, he grabbed the wrench and got back to work. He really loved his job, because he loved working with his hands and loved cars. This particular one was being a pain, literally as he scrapped his knuckles on something. "Shit!" He said, shaking his hand. It started bleeding.

"Hey, anyone got a rag? And maybe some tape?" He asked out to the guys working on different cars. They hardly ever had band-aids around, but he was fine if the blood didn't get everywhere. Of course, Matthew hated it when he just put tape on them, but it had to be done.

The man that handed him a rag laughed. "Thinking about your girl on the job again?"

"Hey, when you have someone as fine as I have, you would think about them a lot too. Of course you can only get prostitutes, hey?" Alfred said, giving a laugh as he soaked up the blood with the rag.

Smirking, the guy also handed him some electrical tape. "Yeah, whatever. I'll get a girl so sexy she will knock yours out of town, and then what are you gonna do?" They both had another laugh and he left, going back to working under the hood.

.oOo.

Two lunches, a dinner and breakfast were done since Matthew had started to diet. It felt nice not to have to purge, but all the food he was eating - to put it simply- was boring. There was no taste or anything. All it really was were vegetables, fruits and the occasional helping of meat or bean. According to the recipe, none of it was supposed to have spices or sauces which kept it all incredibly bland.

It was to keep him skinny, but the Canadian could already see the complications that were going to appear. When Alfred and him were able to spend more time together, he would insist that he was 'perfect the way he is' and laugh at him for dieting even if he secretly wanted Matthew to be skinnier. Then because he wouldn't want him to worry, Matthew would eat burgers with him or something else filled with trans and saturated fats. Then he would have to go back to purging which had stopped helping him as much.

Because of the purging, he had also somewhat noticed that he became thirstier, but Matthew didn't want to put on any more weight, even if it was from water. Sure he would have a glass with his meals, but not much more than that.

But that was diverting his attention to what was really at hand. He had become increasingly bored with his meals, and was finding the temptation to just reach into one of his cupboards to get a box of cookies much too distracting. Well... Would it really hurt if he just had one? Just for the taste, so he could make it the rest of the week with Al whining at him to eat fast food crap with him.

His hand shaking slightly, he went into the cupboard and got out a box of cookies. One, and then he would be done.

At least, that's what he told himself.

And hour later he found himself stock still on the floor, his brain filled with fear, anguish, and disgust at being surrounded by boxes upon bags of junk food containers. What had first been one cookie turned into two, which turned into five which turned into one box and so on and so forth. Now despite his overwhelmingly full stomach, the only thing he could taste was shame. Shame that he could let himself get so bad.

Without a second thought, Matthew got up from the floor and went straight to the bathroom. This had helped him for the last two months, and it was about to again. Shoving two fingers down his throat once he was positioned at the toilet, Matthew threw up most of what he had just eaten. The rest was brought up as he continued to aggravate his gag reflex to completely empty his stomach. It wasn't until he was dry heaving and his entire oesophagus and mouth felt like it was on fire from the acid that he stopped and flushed the toilet, letting himself cry.

Really, how was he supposed to expect Alfred to love him if he couldn't even control himself? Never mind that he was still wasn't skinny or beautiful enough. He knew that Alfred liked thin people, and Matthew had to fit that bill or he would just get up and leave. Just like that. Love meant nothing if he couldn't stand to look at him for being so fat.

Grabbing his mouthwash, he followed his procedure after every time he purged and then went back to his kitchen. Al wasn't coming back until tomorrow, so he just needed to get rid of the evidence today and go buy more to restock later. He would definitely notice if one of his favourite snacks were missing.


	4. Chapter 4

Opening the door, Alfred walked in, looking for Matthew. He found him in the kitchen. "Hey, I have pizza. Missed you." He smiled, giving the Canadian a kiss as he put down the cardboard box. He could be helpful with dinner too.

Kissing his lover back, Matthew pulled away for a second. "Actually... I'm on a diet right now so I'm gonna have to pass on it." As sinfully delicious as it was, he didn't want to have to purge so close to doing it yesterday. After all, the diet was supposed to help him lose weight without doing that.

Lifting an eyebrow, Alfred looked at his boyfriend. "Diet?" he asked. He would have said how he was already perfect and didn't really need a diet, but knew it wouldn't change anything. Just like no matter how many times he said he was sexy and drop dead gorgeous, Matthew still thought it was a lie.

"Yeah... So you can eat the whole thing by yourself! I know you can, and that you like to." Matthew just smiled up at him, hiding his sadness that he couldn't have any. "I'll just have some veggies."

Sighing, Alfred nodded. He really didn't know why Matthew had low self esteem but he couldn't change it. So he opened the box, hoping he would smell the yummy grease and ditch the diet. "You have fun eating like a rabbit."

"It's only until I lose enough weight. Maybe I'll get you to join me." It wasn't that Alfred needed to lose any weight, bur if he wasn't eating junk all the time, maybe it wouldn't be as much of a weight on his mind having it around all the time. Giving Al a quick kiss, he tried not to inhale the scent of the pizza, instead using his binge yesterday to further strengthen his resolve.

Laughing after swallowing a bite, Alfred shook his head. "Yeah right, like I would ever want to be on a diet. Why would I need it with this body." He laughed again, jokingly lifting up his shirt to show off his abs.

"I tried." He smiled despite the strange pang of jealousy. Alfred could eat whatever he wanted without worry while Matthew couldn't even have a normal meal without feeling like he was going to get fat.

At the look in Matthew's eyes, Alfred went closer, putting his arms around his waist and resting his hands on his butt. "Of course my body is nothing compared to yours." He said, looking into his slightly violet eyes and kissing him gently.

Matthew only let the embrace linger for a second before pulling away. "You're just saying that." Maybe he did like what he looked like now, but it was only because he was keeping his weight down and was slowly getting thinner. Matthew knew that the smaller he became, the more Alfred would fall in love with him.

"You're just saying that." Alfred repeated in a mocking tone. He was determined to make him believe that he was amazing and sexy and beautiful. It would be a challenge, and Alfred was always up for a challenge.

"You know how I feel when you say things like that." Matthew just mumbled, not really wanting to open this particular Pandora's box. If they got in another argument about how he felt about himself, then he might let it slip that he was dieting for Al, and he wouldn't ever admit to actually wanting Matt to be skinnier.

"You know how I feel when you say things like that." Alfred continued in the same voice. Then he laughed when Matthew rolled his eyes, so he went closer to him and gave him another hug. But this time, Al tightened his arms and lifted Matt about a foot off the floor. "If you were fat, could I do this?"

Looking away from Alfred's eyes, Matthew mumbled again. "I guess not." But if he was thinner, then he could have been able to hold him up higher. As much as he was trying to prove that he wasn't fat, it was just making him want to lose more and more weight. "You can let me down now."

Laughing, Alfred did as he was asked. Even if it bugged him that Matthew always put himself down, at least he knew he wouldn't do anything drastic, like liposuction. From what he heard from Francis, the Canadian had had low self esteem most of his life, so he realized it would take him a while to get out of that mind frame.

Matthew quickly got out a cutting board and knife and started to cut up some of the fresh vegetables he had gotten along with the junk food to replenish the stock. It wasn't much, but it also wasn't anything that would make him feel sick.

Once he had put them in a bowl, he went into the living room where Al was and sat next to him, trying not to lust over the pizza. It wasn't fair, but he wasn't going to say anything. After all, Alfred could have anything he wanted.

"Mm, your bunny food looks good." Alfred joked, looking for something to watch. For later, he actually had some porn for them to watch, but figured that wouldn't be good while they were eating. "So I was thinking I should move in." He said, as if talking about the weather.

"M-Move in?" Glad he had just swallowed the bite of carrot, he asked slowly. "What made you think that?" It wasn't like it would be a bad thing over all, but it would make it more difficult for him to keep his weight in check with Al breathing down his neck constantly. But at the same time, didn't they always say 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer'? True Al wasn't an enemy, but if he was always around maybe he wouldn't see any drastic changes and then question him about it. Instead he would slowly fall more in love with the skinner Matt as he kept purging and dieting in peace.

"Yeah. I mean it might get a bit crowded at times, but we are basically living together as it is." He took another bite of pizza, already almost finished the whole thing. Although he still wished Matthew would have eaten it with him, it was good nonetheless.

Thinking for a second, Matthew kept himself from freaking out. If they did live together, it would be stressful on them to keep his weight down for Al, but it would also be more a reason to keep dieting to have him like him more. "You're right... But why here?"

"I live in an apartment with thin walls, a squeaky bed, and complaining neighbours." Alfred said, turning around on the couch so he could drape his legs over Matthew's knees and grabbed a pillow for his head. He liked being comfortable.

"It makes sense..." Plus, they wouldn't have to spend more money on two places instead of one. "I've been thinking about it too... When were you thinking about doing it?" He hoped it wouldn't be too soon, since he wanted their first night living together to be when he was at least five pounds lighter so Alfred would be even happier.

Shrugging, Alfred looked away from the television. "Not sure. Are you alright with this? You seem kind of... hesitant." He said, looking into those deep eyes. His mind was obviously off somewhere else, as it was so often lately.

Shaking his head lightly, Matthew just smiled down at Alfred to prove that he was ok. "I'm fine. Like I said, I've been thinking about moving in together but I didn't want to push you into anything." That, and it made it easier to purge if his boyfriend wasn't around. "I love you." _But you don't love me as much as you could; Yet._

Smiling, Alfred lifted his hand, stroking Matthew's cheek with his thumb. "I love you too." He brushed his pink lips lightly, thinking of the first time he had felt them against his own. "God, Matt, your lips are dry. Do you have some lip chap?"

After thinking for a moment, he waited for Al to take his legs off him and went to get some. It wasn't too cold outside yet, but it was windy so that might have been why his lips were chapped more than normal. Putting some on, he placed it in his pocket before going back to the couch to snuggle against Alfred. He didn't eat all his dinner, but Matthew wasn't hungry anyways.

When Matthew came back and sat down, Alfred leaned in, kissing him. "Much better." He said, running his tongue along the normally luscious lips. While it was true that before Matthew, Al had been straight, after him he didn't think he could ever go back to girls. They all just seemed so fake now, like the only real thing was from a practically uninhabited block of ice and had long hair with a bad self image.

"I'm glad you approve." Kissing Al again, Matthew couldn't help but feel somewhat excited. If he lost more weight, then Alfred would like him even more. Since had such a low self-esteem, each small compliment made him embarrassed, but wanting more.

Smiling at the fact that Matthew seemed to be happy, Alfred wrapped his arms around him and brought him down, so he was sitting on the American's legs. They continued kissing, closing their eyes and pressing together.

Pushing his body more against Alfred's -though he made sure not to rest all his weight on him-, Matthew rolled their hips together before breaking the kiss. "I need to put the rest of my dinner in the fridge before it goes bad." Chastely kissing his jaw, he slid off his boyfriend and went to put the rest of the vegetables in a container.

"So you eat like a rabbit and _still_ don't finish it? What is this, the 'Starve Yourself till You Waste Away to Nothing Diet'?" Alfred said after him, going to the TV to put the porn on. It looked like a good one, threesome with all guys. The first time they had watched porn together, Alfred had made the mistake of getting a normal one, not realizing at the time that Matthew was just gay and not bi.

Hiding the twinge of fear that Alfred had found out, Matthew just laughed. "Something like that. I guess I just wasn't hungry tonight." Alfred didn't sound like he was serious, so if he joked along he hopefully wouldn't start asking questions.

When he saw just what was on the TV, he groaned playfully. "Another one? If I didn't know you any better I would have thought that you had a porn obsession." Nevertheless, he still sat next to Al as he started up the movie. It made him feel extremely awkward the first few times they did this together, but that had been months ago.

Smirking as he went through the DVD instructions, Alfred laughed. "I don't have a porn obsession, it's just that whenever we watch them, you always try to mimic what the bottom is doing, and get even more turned on." He said, getting slightly annoyed that it was taking so long to get to the movie.

Blushing, Matthew hit his arm lightly. Getting an idea, he turned so that he was kneeling on the couch, and he draped himself on his boyfriend's shoulder. "Maybe we should just cut the middleman, eh?" He whispered into Alfred's ear, giving it a small nip for emphasis.

"Mm, damn you, you know how much it turns me on when you speak Canadian." Al groaned, looking over at his boyfriend. Just on time, the movie started playing. "Race to see who can get undressed fastest!"

Rolling his eyes, he watched Alfred take his shirt off hurriedly before slipping into his lap. "How about you tell me what they are doing." He whispered again, kissing his neck. If Al was already ok with doing this, why not make it more fun? He started to roll his hips in slow, patient circles against Alfred's crotch.

"But I still don't have my pants off, and you didn't even try to win the contest." He mumbled, eyes lazily going to the screen. "The bottom is kissing one guy's dick, while stroking the other's." He played along, already hard and feeling Matthew's matching erection against his leg.

Sliding gracefully to the floor, he knelt in front of Alfred and slowly undid the button and zipper on his jeans before pulling them down. Snaking his hand into the boxers, Matthew pulled out his hardening cock and started to stroke it firmly. Once it was almost completely hard, he started to kiss his way up and down the shaft, looking up at his boyfriend's half-lidded gaze. "Now?"

Smiling, Alfred glanced at the screen. "Well, now one of the tops is getting a dildo for the bottom." Al said, wondering what Matthew would do with that. "He's putting it in and the bottom is moaning, and the other top is going to lick where the dildo is going in." This video was beginning to be his favorite.

Since they weren't in the bedroom, it would take too much time to go and get a dildo from there, so Matthew did the next best thing. Pulling away for a second, he took off his glasses and shirt before pulling his pants and underwear down. Making sure he had Alfred's eye contact, he slipped his fingers in his mouth for a second getting them lubed up before bending over and putting them in his hole. An airy moan escaped from his lips and he slowly thrust one finger in.

"Alfred... Now what?" Matthew breathed against his cock, licking the slit teasingly. He was glad he felt skinny enough to do this, but he knew if he even gained one more pound, then Al would probably lose interest in his naked body.

Not even bother to pay attention to what they were doing in the movie anymore, Alfred started writing his own script. "Well, the bottom is masturbating for them, giving them a good view of where the dildo is going in. He is also asking to be stretched even more." He knew that Matthew could have heard it if the uke had actually said that, but he could claim there are subtitles.

Keeping his face with an expression of innocence, he turned around and put his face on the carpet so his ass was high in the air. Spreading his legs wider, the hand that wasn't thrusting three fingers into his hole now went up to start jerking his cock. Blushing, he moaned out. "Please Alfred... Stretch me more. I want to be wide open for you."

Moaning, Alfred left the couch and knelt behind him. How did he ever live without this in his life? "He's sucking one guy off." He grunted, before adding one of his fingers beside Matthew's, hearing him make a high pitched sound that wasn't acting as his finger stretched him. Then he bent forward, licking the red skin around it.

"More... It's not enough..." Matthew managed to moan out, his entire being pulsating with desire. He could tell that Alfred had lost interest in the movie, but it was fine with what was going on anyways. The four fingers inside him actually was almost too much, but the pain-laced pleasure was highly addicting.

"How about having _me_?" Alfred asked, breathing against his ear. With four fingers, Matthew was obviously ready for his length, so he didn't have to worry about hurting him like he usually did. The Canadian never told him when it hurt, so he always had to pay close attention to what he was feeling.

At those words, he could barely hold back another wanton cry. "God Al, please!" This was slightly more than he was used to being stretched, and it felt incredibly good. Not to mention his hand that was still rubbing himself off, occasionally squeezing the head.

Taking out both their fingers, Alfred lined himself up, slightly worried since they weren't using lube, but was much too turned on to get it. "But only if you repeat what the bottom just said, ok? He just said 'I am incredibly sexy and perfect which is why everyone loves me'."

Groaning, Matthew just repeated it back quickly, too desperate to try and make the taller blond believe him. By now, he would be upset if Al walked away, but judging by the fact they weren't even going to use lube, he couldn't walk away if he tried.

Slightly disappointed that Matthew obviously hadn't meant any of it, Alfred pressed forward anyway. His cock head slid in easy, even considering the lack of lubricant. He would just have to go slower than usual, he supposed. Looking up at the video, he saw that they were also already having sex, one of the tops sucking the bottom off as the other fucked him from behind.

"_I want you inside me_..." Matthew whined in French, bringing his hand off his erection in favour for using it to go on all fours. He was all ready to push back against Alfred, but the hands on his hips stopped it from being effective. The moans coming from the TV were -as Alfred had said- turning him on more, making it even harder not to be moving.

"You know I hate it when you speak French." Al said, slowly going deeper inside. There would be a lot of friction with no lube, so he wanted to go as slowly as possible. After all, Matthew seemed fragile as it was, so he was always wanting to protect him and such.

Holding back a moan of frustration from going too slow, Matthew quickly apologized. He always seemed to forget that Al never found French to be amorous. "Please move faster..." He whined, the sound of flesh slapping flesh from the video urging him on more.

"But it'll hurt." He said quietly, rubbing Matthew's sides with his thumbs. At a louder moan, however, he went slightly faster, not as fast as they usually went but still fast enough for the both of them to feel good.

"I don't care." The Canadian said bluntly, still trying to urge Alfred to move faster. If they were to, it would be good because not only would it feel amazing, but it would also be like exercise. "Please Al, for me?" He pleaded, looking back at his bright blue eyes that were currently dilated with lust.

That deceitful blond knew Alfred couldn't say no to that face. So he started going faster, soon almost ramming into him and pulling Matthew back to meet his every thrust. He bent over his back, kissing the snow-white skin.

Even though Matt would normally insist to use lube, feeling the burning pain of raw friction made him moan harder. Even though he wasn't doing most of the work, he was already getting tired. Matthew arched into the embrace while pushing himself against Alfred's greedy thrusts. "Touch me..." He managed to whimper over the erotic sounds of the video and their own lewd activities.

Complying, Alfred wrapped his arm around Matt, grabbing his dripping cock. He rubbed it the same pace as his thrusts. He latched his mouth onto his neck, sucking and giving him a small bite that he hoped would disappear.

"Al!" Matthew almost choked on his own moan before it came out of his chest. All the pleasure was starting to coil in his balls and send quicksilver through his veins.

Groaning, Alfred grunted slightly. "Matt, I love you." He whispered into the Canadian's ear before gripping his cock harder. He heard in the movie them making perverted noises, but it didn't turn him on as much as Matthew's quiet moans.

"I love you t-too!" Matthew managed to get out before releasing white streams of cum over Alfred's hand and the floor. Knowing that he was close as well, he continued to thrust back against him. It couldn't been much longer since his thrusts were becoming sloppier and the hands on his hips were starting to bruise the skin.

He felt Matthew's cock twitch in his hand, and soon they were both cumming. Letting out identical moans, they sped up for a minute before slowing down and breathing heavily.

Laying down on the floor, Matthew panted off his high. Alfred was still in him, but he wasn't about to tell him off for it. He felt incredibly drained; even more then when they normally had sex. "Thank you Al..."

"Thank you is not something you should say to someone you just had sex with, unless you paid for it." Alfred laughed, pulling out with a wet sound. Well, if they did it again, at least they would have some type of lubrication now.

Laughing quietly into the carpet, Matthew apologized. "Sorry then." Really though, he was ready to fall asleep right there on the floor, even though he was covered and filled with cum.

Holding the small Canadian close to his chest, Alfred laid down beside him. They had eaten relatively late, so it wouldn't be weird to go to sleep now. "So after I move in... gay marriage is legal in Canada, right?" He asked with a laugh, only half joking.

Jolting a bit in the embrace, he looked back at Alfred's face. "Really?" Was he thinking about getting married for real?

Smirking, Alfred looked Matthew in the eyes. "Well, I know that I love you. And I'm pretty sure you love me, so why not? We could visit your family while we're there!" Of course, it probably wouldn't be for a while.

Once again his spine stiffened and his eyes grew cold. "Maybe that wouldn't be the best idea... If we were to go up there and get married, wouldn't it be better to just go to Vancouver and do it quickly? Plus there is a pretty good gay scene too..." He had always managed to keep away from the discussion about his family, but it seemed pretty difficult now.

Smile falling, Alfred turned off the TV that was still playing. "I want to meet your family if we get married. I can ask permission, at least." He knew they were alive, so why didn't Matthew want him to meet them? They couldn't be any weirder than his own family. Maybe they didn't approve of him being gay? Well, they didn't have to say they were dating...

"I'm too tired to talk about this right now..." Matthew mumbled, eyelids falling shut. "I love you Al." He really didn't want to talk about his past, especially after what they just did.

Gritting his teeth, Alfred forced himself to smile. "Let's at least go to the bed." He said, standing up. The family conversation would have to wait for another time, but he still wanted to have it.

Gathering his energy, the Canadian forced himself to stand up. Alfred had helped him stand up, but he was tired and sore. "I'm sorry... I just don't like talking about my family very much. They aren't too interesting anyways..." Even though he was ready to pass out he couldn't go to bed with Al upset.

Just wanting the conversation to be over, Alfred got to the bed. He really wanted to know at least why Matthew didn't want them to meet, but knew he wasn't going to get the answer tonight. "Whatever. Let's just go to bed."

Nodding passively, Matthew crawled into his bed next to Alfred. He was still covered in cum, but he could hardly care about it as he immediately fell asleep.

* * *

Wow, that was a long chapter. But I didn't want to split it up, because it's the first sex scene. We hope you all liked it!


	5. Chapter 5

Opening the door, Alfred smiled as Matt stepped in. Quickly, he gave him a big hug, not having seen him for two days. "I missed you. Holy crap have you lost weight?" He wondered, feeling him through his thin shirt.

"Well, I _have_ been on a diet." Matthew smiled widely, happy that Alfred noticed. He could see that he had lost weight, but it was more important that Alfred did. And he hadn't purged since his accidental binge.

Rolling his eyes, Alfred went deeper into his apartment. It wasn't that Matthew didn't look good skinnier, it was just that he didn't need it. To the American, he was perfect. "So I have started packing my things. Running out of boxes though."

"We could go out and get some if you want." Matthew didn't have the need to have a car, so they would have to take Alfred's. "Or you could go and I'll help you pack. It's the least I can do."

"Or," Alfred said, adding another option to the mix, "We could do that stuff tomorrow, and right now we could go to my room and... annoy the neighbours, if you know what I mean." He said with a devilish glint in his eye.

Seeing Alfred so happy made it harder for Matthew to deny. "But the people who are moving in are coming tomorrow. They probably wouldn't be too happy waiting for us to finish packing and moving."

Sliding behind him to wrap his arms around his lover's waist, he whispered in his ear. "But there isn't anything stopping us from doing something later tonight. Give your neighbours their farewell gift."

Thinking it over, Alfred was swayed. "Well, wouldn't want to leave without saying goodbye to them." But that meant they would have to work right now, instead of having sex. And when they did have sex, they would have to do it on the floor, up against a wall, or on a counter since all the furniture was going to be gone. That... didn't sound like a bad idea.

"So... Boxes" Matthew reminded, slipping off Alfred. "I'll stay and pack so you have a reason to come back." Giving him another smile, he started to inspect the things he needed to pack.

"'So I have a reason to come back'? Why wouldn't I come back?" He gave a laugh, picking up his car keys. "K, I'll probably be back in like fifteen minutes to half an hour. Don't lift anything heavy." He kissed Matthew on the lips before going to the door.

Once Alfred was out the door, Matthew just smiled again. He could see in his eyes just how much he liked having Matthew skinnier. He felt much more attractive and obviously he was.

Since he only had a few necessities that he needed to pack, the strawberry blond made sure to keep some of his clothes out for tomorrow as he emptied out his closet. It felt wonderful that Al was coming to live with Matthew, but he couldn't help but feel a bit hesitant. It was going to make losing weight and keeping it off harder. Already it was a struggle to get to where he was now.

Carrying a bunch of big cardboard boxes, even when empty, was fairly difficult. Alfred got in the elevator and almost dropped them all as the door started closing on them. He swore he could follow the fallen ones like a trail of bread crumbs.

Getting to his room, he hit the door with his foot, because there was no way he could open it like he was.

Hearing Al knock on the door, he yelled out, "Just a sec!" before taping the box shut and going to the door. When he saw just how many boxes he had, his face fought between giggling at how awkward it looked and distraught from how heavy it must have been. "Here, let me help..."

Just letting the boxes tumble into the room, Alfred walked in. "Well, I got boxes." He said, wanting praise for what he had done. Matthew praise was the best kind, so he got it as often as possible. He looked around, seeing everything that he had packed up already.

Making his way to Alfred despite the boxes strewn around him, he put his arms around his neck. "Thanks." With that, he kissed the tip of his nose before walking off. He knew his boyfriend wanted more than that, but he would have to work for it. Literally.

Pouting slightly, Alfred got to work on packaging everything up. He had rented a truck so they could move everything in one trip. With Matthew as skinny as he was, Al didn't want him to do any heavy lifting. It would probably break him in half.

It had taken them a little longer than Matt had hoped to get everything ready for the truck -only because they both couldn't keep their hands from each other for longer than fifteen minutes- but it was finally done. The only things left were a small suitcase for Alfred and a couple of things in the fridge that might go bad if left out. "Done." He sighed, taping up the last box before Alfred carried it over to the pile of other ones.

Nodding, Alfred looked to the pile he had to carry down. Well, he deserved something for all this work so far, didn't he? "So, we're practically finished, so shall we annoy my neighbours now?" His favorite pass time.

Giving a pretend sigh, he just pressed himself against Alfred and smiled. "Is that all you were thinking about today?" So what if it was all that kept Matthew from slacking off as well? It was still enjoyable to poke fun at him since he never took it personally.

"How can I possibly think about anything else when you're walking around all day after losing weight and wearing those skinny jeans? Your ass was waving all day like a white flag, saying 'I surrender! Come and rape me!'" Alfred said, putting his arms around the small of Matthew's back.

Matthew couldn't help breaking out into a wide smile himself as he pressed their lips together. He knew that Al would like him more if he lost weight! His own arms slipped to his shoulder blades to press their bodies closer. "Lube?" He asked breathlessly as he pulled his mouth away for a second.

Thinking, Alfred pulled away. "Damn, it's packed! What can we use..." He went in search of something, looking in the fridge even. He didn't want to do it dry again, because the next morning after their last time Matthew had been in pain. He hadn't said anything, of course, but he could still tell. "Could we use Mayo?" He asked hopefully.

Grimacing, Matthew just laughed lightly. "That's disgusting. I was just seeing if you remembered to keep it out so I made sure to bring some with me in my bag just in case."

Smirking as he turned back around, Alfred shook his head in amazement. Matthew always knew him so well, it was great how he could plan ahead like that. "Man, I love you." He walked back to him, wondering where his bag was.

"Love you too." Because if he didn't, what would be the point in trying so hard to keep him? It wouldn't be hard for Alfred with his sexy body and his bright personality to find some other person to fall in love with. That's why Matt had to keep him hooked with his mind and body. If he could continue to pleasure him without being fat, then they would be together for a long time.

Kissing him passionately, Alfred started moving them to the bedroom. Of course there wasn't a bed in there, but that didn't matter. "Where is it?" He asked as they pulled away for air. They were going to have such good sex, Matthew would be screaming his name loud enough to wake up the whole floor.

"By yours." He sighed pleasantly as Alfred started to kiss his way down his neck and collarbone. "Front pocket."

Quickly going to get it, Alfred returned to find Matthew already undressing. He smiled, seeing the naked skin. "You know exactly how to get a man hard, don't you?" He asked, putting the lube down and shrugging off his own shirt.

Helping Alfred, he corrected. "I know how to get _you_ hard. Isn't that the important thing?" Not to mention the fact that to get him hard, he had to stay skinny enough. Which he obviously was from the comments.

Once his chest was bare, he ran his hand against it, wanting to feel what he already knew by heart. They both might have known each other's bodies like a map, but each time they were together it felt just as amazing as the first time, if not better as they learnt more about each other's sensitive spots.

Laughing, Alfred took his glasses off. They always seemed to get in the way, so he was thinking about getting contacts. "Shall we see if I know how to get you hard as well?" He asked before feeling Matthew's cock, going to the base to feel his curly hair there.

Holding back a small moan, Matthew smiled. "Eh? What are you talking aboot?" He smirked, molding his accent into a 'Canadian' one. It never failed to annoy him when Al mocked him with it, because as far as he knew, he hadn't heard a single person speak like that. If anything it was an American myth.

Moaning at the sound of Matthew speaking 'Canadian' Alfred pressed him up against the wall. "Oh, there is no way you're getting away from me now." He hissed before lowering his mouth to Matt's throat. "I vant to suck your neck." He said in an imitation of a vampire as he started lightly biting his pale skin.

Fighting between laughing and moaning, he went with the former as he laughed breathlessly. "It's blood. I want to suck your blood." It didn't really matter though, since he was already feeling his erection battle with his boxers for freedom. And if the one poking into his hip was any indication, Alfred didn't care either.

"But I don't want to suck your blood. It would taste weird and you would have to go to the hospital." Alfred defended, working on getting his pants off. No, he didn't want to suck Matthew's blood, but there was another bodily fluid of his that he wouldn't mind sucking.

As Alfred was taking off his own pants, Matthew slid off his boxers. Now they were both completely naked, and pressed against the wall. "Your neighbours are going to have our hides." They hadn't had sex often here, but whenever they did, Matthew tried his best to keep quiet despite Alfred's protesting bed.

"Doesn't matter, cause we won't be here." He laughed, going back to Matthew with the bottle of lube in hand. It was almost empty, and they had only gotten it a little while ago. It was really sad how much they spent on the stuff.

The moonlight coming in through the bare window was the only light by which the strawberry blond could see his boyfriend warming up some lube on his fingers. His hands were on Alfred's sides, holding them close as he brought their lips together in a passionate kiss.

Alfred put his hand around Matthew, poking at his hole. He slipped one finger in, feeling the muscles contract around him. He couldn't wait to be inside him, after not having even seen him for two days because he had been packing.

Moaning into the other's mouth, he slowly brought his leg to wrap around Alfred's waist as the finger went inside him. Matthew's hands slid up so that they were tugging at his golden hair; made silver by the moonlight. There was nothing more than this that he wanted, which is why he took such drastic measures to keep it.

Putting in another finger, Alfred lifted Matt's leg higher. For what they were going to do, it really was a good thing Matthew was lighter now. Of course, he could pick him up easily before, but now it would probably be like lifting a feather.

"Ok, you know how to get me ha-_ahh!_" Matthew trailed off into a moan as the fingers inside him started to move. Really, all Alfred had to do was smile at him and he would be on his knees.

"Of course I know how to make you hard." Alfred laughed, breathing against his neck. One last finger and it would be him inside Matt, instead of his fingers.

Looking up at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes, he gave his lover more room to lick and suck his neck as the fingers inside him started to spread. It was a bit awkward to think that they were going to have sex against a wall, but they had done it in other awkward places before. He remembered with a smile when he used to demand that it was on a bed, and now here they were. Matthew was light enough to do it, so why not?

Feeling Matthew's throat vibrate as he moaned, Alfred knew he couldn't hold it anymore. He quickly slipped out his fingers and put his hands firmly on his hips, pinning him against the wall. "Put your other leg up."

Quickly following his order, Matthew couldn't help but groan again as his own weeping erection rubbed against both of their stomachs in the process. He dug his heels harder into Al's back as lined himself up with one hand. "Put you thick cock in me Alfred~ Fuck me hard; make me scream your name." He whined in his ear, lightly licking the earlobe.

Groaning, Alfred could barely contain himself. He always loved it when Matthew talked dirty, basically because he hardly ever did it. He rolled his hips forward, while also letting his arms down a little, lowering Matt onto his cock.


	6. Chapter 6

Biting down slightly on the fleshy nub as he was penetrated, Matthew moaned directly into Alfred's ear. They only had sex standing a few times, so the feeling was still quiet new. It still almost felt like he was going to fall, but the hands on his hips and the weight pushing him against the wall made him feel more comfortable.

Lifting him up slowly, Alfred let Matthew fall down back onto his length. It always was the best feeling being inside him, and if he could, Al would like being inside him all day long. Of course that would be impossible, but still a nice dream.

Matthew was already impatient as he started to rock himself against Alfred's length and stomach. It felt so good, and the Canadian didn't want anything else in the world but Alfred. If he had to choose between him and water, he would just get his moisture from somewhere else. That was why it would be so detrimental if Alfred finally realized that there were much better people in the world than him.

Moving a little faster, Alfred gave a groan. Because of the position, Matthew was tighter than usual, so he was clamping down on his cock even harder. He angled his hips so he could get Matt's prostate, because he knew how much he liked that spot.

His fingernails started to dig into his boyfriend's back as they started to move faster. Matthew was still nervous about being too loud since he didn't like having people upset with him, yet it was still difficult to keep his voice down. "Al... Keep moving." He mewled, his body trying to adjust itself so his prostate wouldn't be brushed, but hit.

"Mm, fuck, you're fucking sexy." Alfred breathed between pants. His eyes were half closed, but he could still see Matthew, who's face had a beautiful blush, and his hair was messy from sticking to the wall. It was strange, though. Even though the room was fairly hot, he didn't seem to be sweating at all.

Holding on tighter so that he wouldn't slip, he opened one eye. "Kiss me." He didn't need to hear Al talking about how 'sexy' he was. There were many people that were better looking than Matthew. It was hard to wait for him to though, as he held back a whimper of delight when his cock rubbed hard against his stomach.

Kissing him deeply, Alfred dug his fingers into his butt. He liked it when Matthew ordered him to do something, because he so rarely did. They were both breathing deeply, but wouldn't stop kissing. He could just imagine how pissed off his neighbours were.

Matthew pushed against the wall with his shoulders to push his crotch into Alfred's stomach. It had also made it so when Alfred thrust into him, his back ended up hitting the wall. He couldn't really care about it right now, but somewhere far in his mind he knew that it wasn't the best thing to be doing. A small groan seeped into his lover's mouth as the nails bruised the skin on his butt as they continued to kiss.

Alfred tried to keep Matt from hitting the wall, but it was really difficult. He never wanted to hurt him, because he always seemed so weak. Especially in the past month. Letting go of his lips, Alfred started kissing along Matthew's jaw line.

"_Al...._" He moaned loudly as he tried to move his head to reconnect their lips. It was a futile effort though as Alfred stopped kissing him until he stopped moving. Pleasure was coursing through his body in wave after wave and he knew he wasn't going to be able to last much longer.

Going faster now, Alfred was amazed at how deep he was going in. It must have been because of the position. He hoped Matthew wouldn't be in pain the next day. "Touch... yourself." He muttered, unable to move his hands.

Already feeling somewhat weak, Matthew brought one hand between them to start jerking himself off slowly. He didn't want to go too fast, because he knew he was already quite close to climaxing and he wanted this to last. Just having his hole filled by Alfred was normally enough. "Al...Make me... Make me cum..."

Rolling his hips a different way so he knew he would hit Matthew's prostate dead on, Alfred thrust even harder, watching his beauty throw his head back, almost hitting the wall. They were both going to finish soon, but he wanted the Canadian to scream his name.

Almost screaming out his ecstasy, the Canadian managed to turn it into a high pitched keening sound half way through. "I l-love you Alfred." More sounds bubbled past his lips as he lost control of his self to the pleasure. Even his hand had started to fly over his own cock without abandon.

As Matthew made noises that got even louder, Alfred found himself also losing control. He felt the legs wrapped around his back slip a bit, and he hoped Matt wouldn't fall, but at the moment he couldn't think too rationally.

It wasn't much longer with his hand on his cock and Alfred ramming his prostate violently that Matthew found himself going over the edge. "Al!" He screamed, shooting white ribbons of sperm between their bodies. He continued to thrash against him and squeeze his cock, drawing a few more spurts from it.

Soon after Matthew climaxed, Alfred came as well. His sperm filled his boyfriend, leaking out around his cock. It was a good thing Matt wasn't a girl, because he would surely be pregnant by now. "Matt, fuck I love you."

"I love you too..." He mumbled pathetically, all but melting off of his lover. He was just so tired... It took too much energy to keep holding himself up. "G'night..."

"We don't have a bed here. Look, I'll pack the truck and we can go to your- I mean _our_- place to sleep." Alfred said, holding Matthew up. He was just so cute, it was a wonder he wasn't continually raped or something.

Shrugging as he leaned against Alfred, Matthew just mumbled. "It will take too long... I just wanna sleep now..." Snuggling into his shoulder, he gave his neck a halfhearted kiss to try and get him to stop. "We can just sleep on the floor."

"Tell you what, you can go to sleep here while I take the boxes down. Then we can go home." Of course, Matthew was only this tired because he must have been up for a long time, and he had helped him pack. Alfred wasn't worried, because he would be fine once he got some sleep.

Nodding tiredly, he just slithered to the floor and curled up in a ball. It wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep, but it was better than having to walk around. "See ya." Matthew mumbled tiredly, already feeling his body drift off to sleep.

Standing up, Alfred left Matt to sleep after stuffing his jacket under his head. He lightly brushed his neck, once again surprised by the lack of sweat. He put on some clothes before going to the boxes and starting to carrying them down to the truck. It was a tiresome process, but one that needed to be done.

When he was finished, he went back upstairs and put Matt's clothes back on him, trying to not wake him up. Once dressed, he picked him up. Yes, he was much lighter than some of the boxes he had carried down.

Feeling something cool against his forehead that was vibrating weakly, Matthew opened his eyes slowly to find himself sleeping in the moving truck. A large yawn escaped his lips before his could cover his mouth as he blinked wearily. "How long was I asleep?" He asked quietly, already feeling a bit better. Having sex lately really tired him out, but he just attributed it to not being used to weighing less.

"About an hour." Alfred said, smiling over at his drowsy passenger. They were almost to Matthew's house, so it was probably a good thing he had woken up. "Feeling better?"

Shrugging, Matthew rubbed his eyes as he sat up in his seat. Stopping for a second, he asked. "Where are my glasses?" He would have liked to sleep a bit more, but he would have to help Alfred a bit.

"I put them in your bag, along with the lube. Don't worry. I'm pretty sure the people moving in tomorrow wouldn't appreciate it if we left that there." He gave a small laugh, pulling up to Matthew's house. Being Canadian, he would probably insist on helping, so Alfred would have to find light stuff form him to carry.

The strawberry blond just gave a small nod as he unbuckled himself. Alfred honestly cared about him if he even managed to buckle in his unresponsive body. "I'm not going to let you do all the unpacking by yourself _or_ all tonight." Matthew told Alfred as they got out of the truck.

"How did I know you were going to say that?" Alfred got out of the truck, going to the back. "Can you open the door to the house?" Sometimes Matthew just had to be more selfish. But of course, he knew that was never going to happen.

"I'll go do that." He said, going up to the door to unlock it and put a door-stopper in it. He could tell that Alfred didn't want him to do too much, but he felt bad if he didn't help out. It was in his blood. Well, maybe more his nationality than family blood.

Getting a small box out, Alfred put it at the door of the truck so Matthew would take that one. Then he picked up one of the heavier ones and started towards the house with it. "There is one there for you."

Seeing which he left, he just sighed. Sure he was now lighter, but it didn't mean he was a weakling. Sure he couldn't carry as much as Al could but he wasn't incompetent. Still, Matthew grabbed the light box made his way into _their_ house. It was already getting somewhat late, and he didn't want either of them to drop from exhaustion especially after the sex they just had.

Alfred decided that they could just put all the boxes in the living room for now and unpack them later. Really, where were they going to put everything? He didn't have much, but it was still a lot for the small house. They would probably end up selling his furniture.

"I guess we can finish tonight since there wasn't too much..." Matthew mumbled as he put down another box in the middle of his living room. He must have over estimated how long it would take them and didn't want them up 'til the middle of the morning doing this. Mind you, his body felt like it was already really late. Not to mention the fact that his butt and back were starting to hurt.

Taking one of the last boxes, Alfred left his furniture in there. He could get a mover to help or something for those tomorrow, but for now he was done. "Matt, there's one last box. Then we can go to bed." Of course, they would both probably fall asleep as soon as they got there.

Giving a quick nod, he went out to grab the last box. Once again, it wasn't too heavy so it was relatively easy to take it up the few stairs to his front door. With a smile, he placed it with the others in a small mound and hugged Alfred close. "Welcome home."

"I would say we should celebrate, but I'm too fucking tired." Alfred said, giving a loud yawn. But he could see in Matthew's eyes that he was even sleepier then he was, so he put an arm around his back. "Bed?"

Glad that his glasses were already off, Matthew nodded as he let Al all but carry him to _their_ bed. That was going to take some time before it stopped making him smile. "Maybe tomorrow... Or the weekend.... Francis and Arthur could come... Maybe Gilbert, Felix, or Ismael too..." He would say Ivan too, but he knew that his boyfriend never really saw eye to eye with him. Neither with the rest of his friends really, but that couldn't be avoided.

"Well, Gilbert is pretty awesome, but I never like the way Felix looks at your butt, and Ismael and I usually get into fights." Of course, Francis and Arthur were alright, because they had both known them for a while.

"Too tired..." Matthew just mumbled, hoping he would get that he wanted to talk about it later. All he really had to eat today was some breakfast and a very small lunch/dinner so he wasn't in the best state especially after having sex and using up all his non-existent energy.

Nodding, Alfred led him to the bed. They laid down, and Matthew went to sleep almost immediately. Why did he always seem so tired? He had just had a nap in the car for about an hour. Oh well, the American figured he was also tired. He took off his glasses and wrapped a hand around his boyfriend's waist, slipping off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Hearing the doorbell ring, Matthew excused himself from where Alfred and him were sitting on the couch and answered the door. "Francis and Arthur! Bienve- Uh, Welcome!" It was somewhat expected that they would come first, but it was still nice to have them over. Giving them both a big hug, he continued to smile widely.

"It has been too long, Matthew." Francis said as he got a warm hug. "How are you feeling?" Of course, the question held more than the obvious. He had been worrying about him ever since that dinner, and he had obviously lost more weight.

Trying not to bring any attention to his question, he just continued to stay smiling. "I'm very good! How about you? And Arthur?" Matthew asked, bringing attention to his other half. It had always seemed a bit ironic that Francis would go after someone like Arthur -who was a Brit none less-, but he had wished them both the best of luck.

"Splendid. Not that I am complaining, but it would have been nice to know that we were invited _before_ this morning." With that, he made a point at glaring at his boyfriend who just gave him a small grin. "Other than that I am, if I might say, simply smashing."

"You know that if I told you a week ago about this, you would have found other plans." Francis said, going into the house. He sat down beside Alfred. "Well, finally made the big move. No turning back now, _non_?"

"I don't wanna turn back." Alfred smiled up at Matthew, making sure there was still room for him to sit beside him. Or else he would have to sit on his lap. "Although, you might want to turn back from your relationship, considering it's with an old man."

"Francis is plenty older than I am, _thank you very much_." Sitting on the small chair, Arthur crossed his legs and arms, looking snootily at them both. "Just because I happen to act mature doesn't mean that I am an 'old man'."

Slipping beside his lover, Matthew just laughed. "Sorry, but I'm going to have to take Al and Francis' side with this one. You remind me of... Someone" His smiled faded and was replaced by a somewhat fake one. After all, he didn't want to talk too much about his family lest Alfred wanted to start asking more questions.

Glancing at Matthew, Francis could tell that he was faking it. Though he was probably the only one in the room, because he had grown up having to fake a smile his whole life. It was rare he spoke about his family, and the Frenchman couldn't blame him.

Alfred gave a laugh. "Yeah, he reminds me of someone too. An old man." He sat back with his beer and took a swig. So what if he had a few beer, it was a party!

Glad that he wasn't about to inquire about his slip up, Matthew's smile morphed back into one of joy. After all, he was living with his long term boyfriend who he was madly in love with and he was going to be surrounded by their friends. If that wasn't perfect, then he had no where else to look.

"Would you two like something to drink?" Matthew asked politely, playing the roll of the host. It didn't look like Al was about to any time.

Immediately the Englishman's body language shifted as he melted into the chair. "Tea please. And if I might be as bold to ask if you could sneak in a splash of whatever hard liquor you have. God knows I'll need it..."

"Wine, please. Arthur, I didn't know they named a drink after what you always do after we have sex." Francis said, his laugh sounding, somehow, like velvet.

The doorbell rang, and since Matthew was still in the kitchen, Alfred got up to get it. Soon Felix and his boyfriend, Toris, were walking in. Was this going to end up as a gay party? Probably, and he was the most straight one there, even if he was moving in with his boyfriend.

Seeing that his Polish friend and his boyfriend were here, Matthew made quick work of giving the drinks out before hugging him. "I haven't seen you in so long! How are you? And Toris, is it? How are you?"

"He's fine, but I'm even better. I so got my hair done today." The Polish man said, pointing out his highlights. Toris hadn't even noticed them, like what a douche. "So love the new jeans! Turn around, let me see!"

Alfred glared from beside the door. He was hitting on his boyfriend _right in front of him_.

"Very nice. But they aren't that nice... They were even on sale..." Matthew mumbled, though there was still a smile on his face as he turned around for his friend. Sure he was a bit overbearing, but that was what made him special.

Turing to the brunet, he apologize. "Sorry about that Toris." Shaking his hand, he noticed that the poor man looked somewhat nervous. Kind of how he felt too. "Would you like something to drink?"

Shaking his head, Toris replied hastily. "No, I am fine, but thank you for your hospitality. On behalf of Felix I apologize as well. The man who I assume to be your boyfriend doesn't look too impressed by his actions..."

"Hell no I'm not." Alfred grumbled, still glaring at the... sparkly man in the doorway. It wasn't that he was jealous. Because to be jealous, that would mean Felix would have to have something he didn't. And he was the one who was dating Matt, so he won.

Lifting a tweezed eyebrow, Felix looked Alfred up and down. "Well, nice body, but not much for a brain." He said, turning his nose and walking into the house, intent on saying hi to the sexy man with the long hair.

Watching as Alfred got up with a glare on his face, Matthew quickly went over to him. "It's not worth it Al. He's only a friend. Do you really think I'd let you move in with me if I wanted him?" At that, a shudder went through his body. "It would never work, he's too girly for both of us put together. I need a big, strong man to provide for me." The last part he whispered, kissing him lightly on the lips. If that didn't cool his head, then hopefully his friend could run fast.

Sighing, Alfred looked down at Matthew. "Damn you and your convincing ways." He whispered back, sitting down so he wouldn't be tempted again. Of course he knew that Matt would never go for someone so flamboyant, but it still bugged him how much he hit on _his_ boyfriend.

Pulling Toris along, Felix sat down in the perfect spot so he could talk to everyone. Of course, that chair was uncomfortable. "Honey, can you sit here?" He stood up to let the brunette sit there, and then sat on his lap. "Much better."

Just as Matthew was about to sit down with Alfred again, the door bell rang once more. Once he opened it, he was slightly surprised to see Ivan standing in the doorway, holding out a sunflower. "Uh... Hi Ivan... How... Are you?" He asked somewhat slowly. How did he find out there was a party? Not that he didn't want to invite his longtime friend, but he knew that he and Alfred didn't get along too well, so Matthew figured it wouldn't be the best idea to invite him for their 'house warming' party.

"I heard from Toris about this. I figured my invitation got held up in the mail, so thought I should come anyway." He smiled, handing off the flower. He went inside and saw Toris, so went to go say hello.

Standing up, Alfred went over to Matthew. "I thought you said you weren't gonna invite him." He whispered so they couldn't be overheard.

"I didn't! He apparently heard from Toris so he came over! I'm sorry!" Matthew knew that they fought almost as badly as him and Ismael did, so he didn't want to create the obvious tension. Not only were Arthur and Francis bickering, but Felix was glaring and making little unimpressed sounds as his boyfriend talked with Ivan.

"Stop whispering you two, it's like you are planning our demise." Arthur spoke up after shoving his foot in Francis' face.

"Perhaps they are just planning _your_ demise, _sourcils_, so they can make the world a happier place!" Francis pushed back, until they both fell off the couch and started throwing lazy punches at each other.

Alfred gave a small laugh. "Looks like they are having fun." He said, pulling Matthew out of the way as a pillow was thrown. Felix had started trying to get Toris' attention back, and it looked like he was almost about to start getting undressed.

Forgetting that he didn't ask Ivan, Matthew quickly looked over to him. "Uh Ivan, would you like anything to drink? I think I still have most of the vodka you gave me for my birthday..."

By now Arthur and Francis' fight had turned more into foreplay, and it didn't seem like either of them were going to stop. Picking up a pillow, he just threw it at them as he waited for Ivan's response. He still had the flower in his hand despite all that was going on.

"Da, that would be great." Ivan said as Toris' attention was taken by the brightly coloured man putting the brunette's hand up his shirt.

There was another knock on the door, so Alfred opened it. "Kiku! Glad you could make it! Later I might be able to get the 360 out, if you want."

Nodding politely, the Japanese man waited for him to invite him in. It was a little bit harder to find his new house, but he was still very happy for them. "That would be very nice, Alfred-san."

Meanwhile, Matthew had gone to pour Ivan his drink, who had decided to follow after him, happy to see the sunflower being taken care of.

Arthur on the other hand had barely missed punching Francis in the face before he was sitting back in the chair, sipping his tea as if it never happened. And if anyone asked him about it, it didn't happen as far as he was concerned.

"Toris, touch my nipples right now or else I'm like totally breaking up with you!" Felix demanded. How dare his boyfriend talk to that Russian when he was right there beside him? And then refuse to touch his nipples!

Francis sipped his wine, brushing his foot up against Arthur's leg. "I know where the bathroom is, if you know what I mean." He whispered, wanting to go somewhere after their most recent fight-turned-frottage.

The door to Matthew's house was open, so Ismael and Gilbert walked right in. There weren't very many people here, but it somehow had the feel of a zoo. The Cuban went off in search of his friend, ignoring the Japanese man huddled in the corner.

After Ivan went back to the living room with his drink, Arthur had walked by determinedly with a blush on his face, Francis not too far behind. It wasn't too hard to determine what they were going to do, but the strawberry blond was much too embarrassed to say anything about it.

"Hey everyone, the awesome me has arrived so you can all have fun now!" Gilbert yelled into the crowd, the small bird on his head cheeping pathetically. "Oh and Gilbird the fucking awesome is here too."

Unfortunately for him, he didn't get a response since Toris was now blushing as he lightly brushed his boyfriends nipples who was making exaggerated inappropriate sounds. Other than that, there was only the small Japanese man in the corner and who he assumed to be Matt's bf talking to him. "Hey you, not awesome guy. Where's Matt?" he asked, barging into their conversation.

"Who are you calling not awesome? Definitely not me, who can bench press 200lbs and holds the record in Texas for spitting the farthest." Alfred said, turning around to look at the albino.

"Arthur, not too loud! We do not want to ruin Matthew's party." Francis said, on his knees in the bathroom.

Ivan started walking around the house, wanting to see if there were any interesting rooms. He found a closet that was mostly empty, so he decided to stand in it with his arms crossed and wait for someone to walk by.

Laughing loudly with his hands on his hips, Gilbert replied. "Yeah but that doesn't make you more awesome than me. I'm packing five meters! Beat that you American bastard!" As if in agreement, the bird on his head tweeted loudly.

Seeing that the atmosphere was quickly becoming unstable, Kiku just politely excused himself to the kitchen to see if he could do anything to help the host. After all, he couldn't stand not being helpful, never mind being trapped in a corner by two men that looked like they were about to do something regrettable.

Matthew heard his obnoxious friend talk to his stubborn boyfriend and couldn't help but smile. Sure they sounded like they were about to kill each other, but he would make sure to intervene before it got too close. "Sorry about that Ismael, so how are you? Is your job going well?"

"You have five meters? Alright, prove it! And I bet my dick is ten times more awesomer than yours!" Alfred hoped Arthur wouldn't hear what he just said, or else he would no doubt lecture him on the fact that awesomer was not a word in the English language.

Ismael leaned on the table. "Boring. How is your book coming? Can't wait to read it." He said, fingering one of his dread locks. He bought all of Matthew's books, and made sure he autographed every one of them.

The blond Polish man pouted. "Make out with me, or else I so start undressing, and everyone will like see my perfect body." Felix always liked using this threat, because if Toris didn't do as he said, he got to get undressed and show off his nipple piercing.

Just as Kiku walked into the kitchen to hide, Matthew excused himself to get around him to stop the two 'children'. "Please don't tell me you've already taken off your pants..." He asked around his fingers where he was hiding his eyes. Obviously it didn't matter if he saw Al's length, but Gilbert's was another question entirely.

While they were talking, Toris just sighed as he pulled his Polish boyfriend's mouth against his own. Hopefully no one would look back at them; especially not Ivan. Although, he really had no idea just where the strange Russian went.

* * *

More dysfunctional party to come!


	8. Chapter 8

"Matt, tell this Nazi how amazing I am in bed." Alfred demanded, being tired of using the word awesome. Amazing was better than awesome, anyways. It came before it in the alphabet , which made it more cool. Just like Alfred came before Gilbert.

The Cuban looked down at the dark haired man. "So... how do you know them?" He asked awkwardly, trying to block out the sounds coming from the bathroom and the creepy aura emanating from the closet.

"I am Alfred-san's friends. Ah, I'm sorry, where are my manners." Bowing deeply Kiku added. "My name is Kiku Honda. Please to make your acquaintance."

While the fiasco in the living room was going on, Arthur made sure to tuck himself back inside his trousers before looking out the door. Deeming it safe to exit, he did so with a small frown on his face. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy it -quite the opposite from all the sounds he made- but that Francis had gotten him so riled up with a few words and touches.

"You are amazing, oh great Alfred. Now please stop fighting?" Matthew said monotonously, begging them to enjoy themselves instead of wanting to prove that they could do something stupid and immature. "I'll have you both know I developed a wicked right hook when I used to play hockey in high school. If it wasn't for that I wouldn't be here today." The Canadian stated it like a fact, but the glimmer in his eye showed that he wasn't joking around.

With that, Alfred stopped. Francis had told him stories about Matthew playing hockey. He couldn't picture it, but still didn't want to test it. "Well, Gilbert, I think we should agree that we are equally as awesome."

Francis followed out of the bathroom, after wiping off his mouth. Well, that deserved a glass of wine, he decided. He went to the kitchen to see two people talking awkwardly. "Bonjour! How are you two? Nice place, isn't it?"

Felix pushed the brunette down onto the couch, not even caring if people saw. "Ah, Toris, make me totally feel good." He moaned, rubbing their crotches together. He would go all the way here if he could, because fuck everyone if they didn't want to watch.

The party continued for a few more hours, by this point luckily no one was doing anything inappropriate and the majority of the people including the hosts were at least somewhat tipsy. Matthew had found more alcohol and beer they had gotten for the party while Al brought out a truck loud of junk food which everyone was eating as they talked.

Taking off his glasses to wipe his eyes after Gilbert made a joke about something, Matthew then grabbed a handful of popcorn; his diet and weight put to the back of his mind. He knew that sooner then later he was going to have to make up for it, but at this moment he just wanted to have fun. Alfred and all their friends were, so why not?

Speaking of friends, no one had seen Ivan since the beginning of the party. At the same time, no one was curious enough to go looking for him.

"So then I told Roderick 'Who fucking cares? It's just some stuff on the end of a thing', and you know what he did? Went ape-fricken-shit on me! Who knew he cared so much about it? It's probably 'cause he likes to put it in his ass thinking of me when his wife isn't looking."

Trying to be polite still, Kiku just covered his mouth as he heard the stream of profanities come from the German's mouth. It wasn't very nice, but it also wasn't his place to tell Gilbert that, especially since they just met

Toris on the other hand had been trying to excuse Felix and him since his boyfriend had been increasingly intoxicated and was starting to try and grope him through his pants. It never worked though, because as soon as he would open his mouth, the blond would smirk and grab his crotch again, making him close it and blush. Sometimes it was hard, but he truly did love the other man, no matter his hobbies.

Alfred put down his beer with a bang. "Come on, that's not a funny story. A funny story is what Matt did one time when we were watching a movie that turned out to be a porno..." But for some reason he found a hand over his mouth, so he couldn't finish his story.

Francis was picking at Arthur's hair, because he had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He might have been drooling slightly, but the Frenchman really didn't care. He gulped more wine, long ago not caring about sipping it.

"Mm, Toris, you make me feel so good." Felix moaned, twirling his hair between his fingers as he once again tried getting into the Lithuanian's pants. His head was swimming lovely, and he was having a difficult time making his hands go where he wanted them, but he was still getting the job done.

Giggling a bit, Matthew removed his hand. "Don't tell them that story. Please?" He asked, pouting a bit and making his eyes go wide.

Completely overwhelmed by all the westerners, Kiku just stood up and bowed in front of the hosts. "I must be going home now. Thank you very much for the invite, Alfred-san and I am sorry we were unable to play video games together. Perhaps another time."

Seeing the opportunity to escape, Toris just pulled Felix up off the couch. "We really should get going as well, it was nice to meet both of you." He didn't give the blond any time to stop, and he grabbed their jackets and forced their shoes on. If they were to stay there for much longer, he would have been very embarrassed.

"Why won't yau shfruck me?" Felix asked, garbling his words. "I want shomefing in my ass now." He pouted, leaning heavily on his boyfriend as they stumbled out the door. He looked to the sky, wanting a star for his hair.

Taking another swig of beer, Alfred stood up. "Ok, Nazi freak, let's see who is better shirtless." He said, taking off his shirt completely to show off his abs. "This is American muscle, and you can't beat that." He started trying to undo his pants, but the fucking zipper was too difficult, and the button was stuck.

Matthew stuffed his face with more junk food as he watched his boyfriend take his shirt off to show his perfect abs. It wasn't until Gilbert stood up after yelling out that he would win, that the small blond realized what he was doing. He was eating a lot of crappy food, and had also been drinking. Definitely not the best for his diet. Getting up from the couch, Matthew mumbled. "'Cuse me for a sec..."

While at the same time, Gilbert had all but ripped his shirt off and was laughing. "Hah! Prussian muscle beats fucking American anything, every time!"

Francis stood up, letting Arthur sleep on the couch and walking over a passed out Ismael who was cuddling an empty bottle. He followed after Matthew, curious what he was going to do, since he didn't look too well.

"No way! My abs are so amazing, I have like a ten pack! Way better than a six pack!" Alfred said, pointing to his stomach. Of course, no one at this point could count that high, so they would have to take his word for it.

Quickly making his way to his bathroom, Matthew closed the door before bending down by the toilet. His fingers becoming intimate with the inside of his throat, the contents of his stomach quickly filled the bowl before he started crying lightly. They had just moved in together! The blond was supposed to stay thin for Alfred! How would he manage that if he was stuffing his face with junk food and alcohol? Matthew was never strong enough for himself, so how did he expect Alfred to care about him?

Knocking on the door lightly, Francis went in, seeing Matthew sitting in front of the toilet. "Are you alright?" He asked, worried. He hadn't told anyone about what had happened at the restaurant, like Matt had wanted, but there was something that made him worry.

Turning around to look at the Frenchman above him, he just shook his head. "...Too much alcohol..." As if to prove his point - and because a wave of nausea washed over him-, he turned his head back and felt his stomach heave. How could he have let himself slip up so badly? Not only did he eat too much 'bad' stuff, but Francis had once again caught him. This time though, he felt like his excuse was much more valid.

Nodding, Francis went forward and knelt down next to him. He held his hair so it wouldn't get in the way and patted his back. He knew how much it sucked having drunk too much, so he wanted to help as much as he could.

Shivering a bit, Matthew almost couldn't handle the caring caresses. He didn't deserve them. He never deserved them. Not after losing control again. How would he be able to keep a relationship and friends if he couldn't stop himself from becoming overweight? The thinner he was, the better people were treating him, and he wanted everyone to like him. If Matthew gained more weight, he felt as if he would turn back into being invisible to everyone.

When Matthew stopped puking, Francis stood up and got a face towel wet. He bent back down, wiping his face for him. "Are you feeling better?" He didn't look too sick, actually, but obviously he was if he was throwing up.

"O-Oui..." He mumbled, still not feeling as if he deserved the care. This time it was the full truth, since he was no longer feeling as sick; from the alcohol and the feeling that had been growing in his chest. Hopefully now he would stay skinny just as Alfred wanted. Just as _he_ wanted. "I'm sorry Francis. This isn't a very fun party is it?"

"Of course it is! Watching Alfred and Gilbert battle it out to see who is 'awesomest'; Felix try his hardest to get Toris to do something in public he would never do, and I have not seen Arthur this drunk in a while." He helped the Canadian up off the floor, dusting him off.

"I guess." He smiled weakly as he went to rise his mouth out. It wasn't until they got back into the living room that Matthew couldn't help but laugh. Arthur was still sleeping on the couch with Ismael on the floor, while Gilbert and Alfred were taking turns punching each other in the stomach.

Putting a hand on each of their shoulders, the Canadian said. "Please stop fighting. I though we agreed you were both awesome."

"But I'm more awesome!" The two grown men declared in unison.

"Hey don't copy me!" Alfred said, once again punching Gilbert to prove that his stomach was weaker. He felt his head swimming with alcohol, but the American was still determined to out-awesome his boyfriend's friend.

"Don't fucking copy me, un-awesome person!" Gilbert was just about to punch Alfred in the stomach as he covered his mouth. His eyes going wide, he ran to the bathroom and everyone could hear retching coming from it.

"Proof that I am more awesome." Alfred said before doing almost exactly the same thing and running after him, to the sink instead of the toilet. That awesome drinking contest might have not been as awesome as they had thought.

Francis gave a laugh, not really caring when _they _were puking their guts out. When it was his cute childhood friend, it was completely different.

Matthew on the other hand didn't want his boyfriend and friend being sick. Rushing to the bathroom, he went to Al first and copied the rubbing motions on his back that Francis had done for him. Luckily his hair wasn't long enough to get in the way though. "How are you feeling? I can't imagine that getting punched in the stomach after drinking so much was too good."

"Shut up, it was f-" Alfred bent his head once again, all of the alcohol trying to leave his body once again. "Fucking awesome." He finished pathetically. He ran the water at the same time that he heard the toilet flush.

Laughing quietly, he continued to rub his hand against his back. "Sure it was."

Gilbert though just brought his head up and grimaced, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Whatever. I'm still more awesome than you because I'm Prussian and everyone knows Prussians fucking rock."

"Prussia? You sound German. I've never even heard of Prussia, man." Alfred got a cloth and wiped his mouth off, also cleaning the sink. This was always the worst part of getting drunk. He absolutly hated throwing up.

"That's because it's not a country anymore." Matthew said quietly, hoping that they both were ok. After all, they weren't used to throwing up very much.

Alfred started laughing at that, sitting down on the floor and putting his back against the counter. "Not a country? How are you Prussian if it's not a country! You no-country man!" He continued laughing, his stomach doing flips because of it.

Immediately Matthew blanched. It was never a good thing to say that, never mind say that and _laugh_ at Gilbert. Despite the little problem about not being a country anymore, he still was adamant about being from it, not just East Germany.

"You _fucker_. Prussia is so a country! Why else are there still people that call themselves fucking Prussian! If the people don't die out, the country can't either!" Grabbing the collar of Alfred's shirt, Gilbert sneered down at him. "Say it again."

"Prussia ain't a country~" Alfred sang, head tilting to the side.

Letting a feral growl loose, it was only Matthew holding tightly onto his elbow that stopped Gilbert from smashing in the smug grin on the American bastard's face. "Scheiße... You're lucky _American_."

"Uh Gilbert? As your friend I'd appreciate if you didn't hurt my boyfriend. You know, since I love him and everything. Plus I have to look at him everyday if you hit his face." When Matthew felt the tension in his arm loosen, he let it go.

Still laughing, Alfred murmured a quick 'At least America is a country' before leaving the bathroom. He felt much better now, because he could actually walk without having the world twisting and turning around him.

Smiling at Gilbert, Matthew pulled him into a quick hug. "Thanks for not punching him. I know you are an awesome Prussian." So what if it was just to make him feel better? He was doing a lot more to make himself feel better and Alfred as well then just boosting someone's ego.

"I knew you would. You're pretty awesome yourself Matthew. But not as awesome as me." Pausing for a second, he then freaked out. "Verdammit! Where's Gilbird!"

The bird in question was currently trying to wake the sleeping Cuban. He waved his hand around, trying to hit the small ball of fluff. "Damn bird. Get away from my baby." He mumbled, obviously still not awake as the 'baby' in question was the bottle in his arms.

Hearing the faint cheeping of his awesome bird, Gilbert ran out of the bathroom to find it. Seeing that it was on the Cuban guy, Gilbert picked it up and placed it back on his head. "Hah! The awesome Gilbert and his sidekick Gilbird are reunited again!" He crowed with an obnoxious laugh.

Francis gave a small laugh at the idiotic picture of the drunken albino with a small yellow bird perched on his head. Matthew sure had strange friends, that was sure.

Seeing that Ismael had almost gone to sleep again, Matthew shook his shoulder lightly. "Ismael, do you want to sleep here tonight? I can get you a blanket and pillow?"

Mumbling in his sleep, Ismael pushed the offending hand away. "Five more minutes mom..." He pulled the bottle tighter to his body, not wanting to lose it.

"Uh... Al? Can you help me put Ismael on the couch?" It didn't seem like he was going to get up there himself, and Matthew was too weak to do it himself. That he would admit to.

"Can't we just leave him there?" Alfred asked, but at the look from his boyfriend went to help him. He took hold of him under his arms, figuring that would be the heaviest half. "You get his legs." It wasn't far, so it shouldn't hurt Matthew, right?

Grabbing his ankles, they both managed to put him on the couch just in time for Gilbert to look at the clock. "Fuck I should get home before West flips. Auf Wiedersehen!"

Just as he was about to leave Matthew said. "Gilbert? You still don't have a shirt on... And I'll pay for your cab if you would like..."

"Nah, It's' all good but thanks Mattie." Giving him a last hug, he messed up Matt's hair more before slipping his shirt on."See ya later un-awesome people!" With that, he was gone.

Alfred sat next to Francis, who once again had Arthur's head on his lap. "That was a fun party, Matt. We should have Gilbert over more often." He put his arms on the back of the couch and his feet on the table.

Raising an eyebrow, Matthew asked. "You actually enjoyed fighting with him? I thought you didn't like him?" Not that he wasn't happy to hear that Alfred wanted to hang out with his friends as well. He would have been happy to say the same, but he didn't a very good chance to talk to Kiku.

Already, the Canadian was feeling the pull of sleep and yawned. With Arthur already asleep and both Francis and Alfred looking tired as well, Matthew stood up. "If you want Francis, you and Arthur can sleep on our bed. We'll sleep on the spare one." The other one wasn't as nice, and he couldn't have their guests be uncomfortable.

"Non, I can take him. I will call a cab." Francis said, picking up the sleeping man. He would have driven, but knew that he was still fairly drunk, so that wouldn't be a good idea. "Thank you for the party, it was fantastic. And Al, make sure to take care of my cute childhood friend." He said with a smile.

Alfred nodded, knowing he would do anything for Matthew.

Seeing Francis and Arthur off, Matthew made sure they got a cab before going back to Alfred. "Thank you for putting up with my friends. I'm really happy that we're living together now." Giving him a small kiss, he went to go get a blanket for Ismael.

Making his way to their bedroom, Alfred left the light on for Matt to see. Already he was feeling the drags of sleep, tiredness making his movements slower. Well, that and the alcohol still coursing through his veins.

It didn't take long until Matthew was shutting the door to their bedroom. Slipping off his clothes and glasses, he left his boxers on and put on a large tshirt before sliding into bed with Alfred. He had already brushed his teeth after throwing up, so he was all set. "I love you." He mumbled into the skin of his boyfriend's neck.

"You're wearing clothes. What the hell?" Alfred said, already completely nude. He never liked sleeping with clothes on, and felt they should both sleep naked since they were a couple. He pulled Matthew closer, wanting to cuddle.

"Ismael is sleeping in the living room; I'd rather be careful." He didn't mind sleeping naked with Al, but he didn't want it to escalate into anything. At least, not this night. Holding onto his back, Matthew just pressed his head against his lover's chest.

"Spoil sport." Alfred mumbled into Matthew's long hair. He closed his eyes, already falling asleep against his lover's body. This was going to be nice, living together. He wouldn't have to wake up early to go to his house and get changed before work, so they could have breakfast together.

* * *

Sorry for taking so long! Both mine and schoolgirl-cheesesculpture's computers are on the frits. We can still write with our iPods, but we can't put up chapters with them. Right now I'm using my mom's computer, hoping she doesn't look at the history. Anyway, I will try to get on this computer as much as I can, but no promises. Hopefully I get my computer fixed soon!


	9. Chapter 9

It wasn't the first time Matthew had dreamt about his father, but it didn't make it any easier to deal with when it happened again. As he was shocked back into consciousness, the visions of him standing above Matthew, kicking and hitting and yelling at him made him start to tremble. It was never what he wanted, but when can one choose to be born into a family as dysfunctional as his own? Even Alfred's body next to him couldn't stop him from remembering...

_"Why are you late, you piece of shit? Get your fat ass out there and mow the lawn like I told you!" Bill yelled at his son, pointing to the door. He was thinking of just taking him out of school, it wasn't like he was learning anything anyways. He pushed the small child to the door, giving him a kick when he fell down. "You lazy son of a bitch, get up."_

_Holding back tears, Matthew got up before he could get in more trouble. "I'm sorry father. I'll be quick." Nothing he did was ever good enough for him, but he would always try. His physical and metal self were constantly criticized, but he had to stay strong._

_Sitting back on the couch, Bill grabbed his beer and quickly forgot about his son. Boys should do their chores anyway, and he had to work to put a fucking roof over their heads. His mom had skipped town a few years back, so there was no one else to do the work around here._

_Matthew had made sure to mow the lawn properly as fast as he could. Coming in after an hour, he tried to sneak back into the house so that his dad wouldn't be upset, but it was always difficult to do._

_"Done finally? Good, make some food. You should be good at that, considering the amount you eat." The ungrateful kid would eat anything he brought home, surely. He never did any work, and yet he took as much as he wanted, just like his mother. He would probably end up just like her; a fat whore._

_Going into the kitchen, Matthew then started to make some food as ordered. It was never a good thing to not listen to his father, so he had learnt quickly to do what he said right away._

_When it was done, he brought it out for him. "Here you go." He mumbled quietly._

_Taking the food, Bill took a bite and spit it back out. "This is disgusting!" He yelled, before throwing the plate at the kid. It shattered, cutting up his arm. "What good are you if you can't even cook!" He stood up, hitting Matthew on the side of the face.  
_

Shivering violently in both his memory and real life, Matthew finally realized that Alfred was holding onto him and he was in a cold sweat. His body felt strangely numb, and he could barely make out what his boyfriend was trying to say. Unconsciously, he started to rub his arms and face, trying to erase the pain.

"It's ok Matt, you're with me. It's ok, it was just a bad dream. Calm down." Alfred soothingly, holding Matthew close to him. He had woken up to find the Canadian shivering and staring straight ahead, and he wouldn't move or anything. Then he saw the glistening tears and grabbed him tightly.

"I'm sorry, I'll be better...." The Canadian mumbled quietly, still not quite back into reality. Most of the time it was easy to push aside his memories and be happy, but this was one of the few times where he was lost in the illusion. He knew it was Alfred and not his father holding him, but it didn't stop him from pushing away a bit just in case.

Giving a thankful sigh when Matt finally responded, Alfred pulled away, keeping his hand in his hair. Running his fingers through it always seemed to calm Matthew down. "Are you alright?" He had never seen him like this before, so he was still worried.

Opening his eyes slowly, when Matthew realized just what had happened he almost broke down. Why did this have to happen now? He didn't want anyone worrying about him, since Francis was already concerned enough because he knew of his past. "I'm... I'm fine... Just a nightmare I guess... Sorry..."

"You don't always have to say sorry. It's not your fault." Alfred smiled in the half-light, trying to comfort him. He wanted to know what had just happened, but knew that Matthew wouldn't tell him, thinking it would trouble him too much.

Trying to smile to make his lover stop worrying, Matthew mumbled. "I guess... But I just don't want you to worry." Although, he was plenty worried himself. Why did he have to be so interested in his family when it was something that haunted his memories? He would never understand it, just as he would never understand why Matthew was doing so much to keep him happy.

Taking up the small hand, Alfred pressed a kiss to it. "Do you want to go back to sleep? Or we could get up at four in the morning, and like make pancakes or something." If Matthew didn't want to go back to sleep, he didn't want to make him.

Shuddering from the last part of his memory, he just gave a small fake smile. "I'm not hungry. Could... Could we just cuddle?" Right now, being close to the person that had loved him the most would be the best to help him hopefully fall back to sleep.

Nodding, Alfred scooted closer, laying back down beside him and wrapping his hand around the small body. It always amazed him how skinny he was, but he just held Matthew as close as possible, trying to wash the bad dream away.

Trying to snuggle closer, Matthew mumbled against his shoulder. "I love you. Do you... Do you love me still?"

"Of course I do! Why would you even ask that?" Alfred said, confused about why he would say that. He pulled Matthew up to kiss him deeply, trying to show him, because those words just seemed so hollow. "I love you so much. I love you more than hamburgers, and you know that is saying a lot for me."

Tears started to pearl in his eyes as Matthew nodded. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." It always felt amazing that someone as nice and desirable as Alfred loved him, and the feeling only intensified after his nightmare. He never felt love growing up; companionship from Francis, but it wasn't nearly the same. Matthew had no idea what he would do if they broke up, which was why he had to keep his weight under control. If it was low enough, then they could stay together. Then Alfred wouldn't start hating him like his father did.

"Stop saying sorry." Alfred muttered close to his ear. He continued running his fingers through his long hair, trying to make him feel better. Matthew always had such a low opinion of himself when he really shouldn't.

Silent tears ran down his face as he brought their lips together slowly. "It's so difficult..." Because he had been 'trained' to always feel inadequate, it was hard to suddenly feel as if he could do something right. The nightmare had him pretty shook up still, so he wasn't too sure he would get to sleep.

Wiping the tears off Matthew's face, Alfred kissed him back. "It's alright, I'm not mad. Just remember you don't have to feel responsible for everything." Alfred said quietly against his lips. His precious jewel was crying, and it hurt him to know that.

Swallowing back another 'I'm sorry', Matthew just used the sleeve of his nightshirt to wipe his eyes off on. He didn't like being this way, but it was difficult. Without Alfred, he wouldn't have anyone. Well, Francis, but he had Arthur and a loving family so he would be better off without him anyways. "I love you so much; you can't even imagine..."

A small smile gracing his face, Alfred gave a quiet laugh. "I can imagine, because I love you more." If they had a challenge over who loved the other more, he would certainly win, because he always won everything.

Not wanting to argue over it because it meant possibly explaining his childhood, Matthew just smiled. "I know." Although, it wasn't the truth. If Alfred didn't care about him one day, all he had to do was get up and find someone else, and he could. Matthew didn't know any gay person that wouldn't do anything to get their hands on someone as caring and nice and attractive as his boyfriend. He was none of those.

Closing his eyes, Alfred gave a small yawn. He was still quite tired, but would stay up as long as Matthew wanted to. "So, what do you want to do? Because I know something that would keep us up." He said, hinting at the obvious.

"Just sleep please, sor-" Cutting himself off, Matthew just pulled them closer. Hearing Al's heartbeat was starting to calm him down despite the pain of the memory, and he just wanted to be close.

"Are you sure? We don't have to." He wouldn't want to have to wake up with Matthew like that again, because he had been close to calling either 9-1-1 or Francis, who might have known what was going on.

Matthew shrugged. "Honestly, I'm not..." If he was to go back to sleep, he didn't want to have another nightmare. The feeling of being tired was pulling him in though, and he couldn't hold back the yawn that escaped. "But I'm really tired..."

Alfred nodded in understanding. "Well, if it happens again, wake me up, please." He hoped that Matthew would actually wake him up, but a small part of his brain knew he probably wouldn't. Maybe he could just try to stay awake... he could read one of Matthew's books. They were the only books he read, even when it made his lover blush when he did.

"I promise." Already his eyes were slipping shut against the warm skin of his boyfriend. He was glad that they could be together, but he was going to keep their relationship alive. He had to. Without it, he was just a shell of a person.

* * *

My computer came back to life! So that means that we will be posing more regularly again. But anyway, a lot of you were asking for more information about Matthew's past, so here it is! Enjoy!


	10. Chapter 10

Cuddling up against Matthew, Alfred changed the channel. He had already been living here for a few weeks, so they had gotten into a routine. They had just finished having supper, and he was actually happy by how much Matt had eaten.

"Pick a channel and stay with it. I'm getting dizzy." Matthew said jokingly, glad to be so close to his lover. They had just finished a large meal, and he excused himself to the bathroom saying that his stomach was upset.

Rolling his eyes, Alfred continued changing the channels. "But most of them are stupid infomercials about weight loss products. Neither of us need to lose weight, so I don't wanna watch it." Only girls cared about their weight, anyway.

"Maybe _you_ don't need to lose weight." It was still a touchy subject for him, since he knew their relationship hung on the needle of Matthew's scale. If he wasn't light, then there was no way anyone could love him.

Sighing in exasperation, Alfred shook his head. "Don't even start with that, it's seriously starting to piss me off." For the past while, it seemed like Matthew was always putting himself down, talking about weight and eating and everything. He had had enough.

Narrowing his eyes slightly at Alfred's acidic tone, Matthew pried. "Why wouldn't I? Am I not allowed to care about what I look like?" Sure it was something more attributed to women, but he had a good enough reason to care, and he couldn't understand how Alfred didn't see it.

"Oh come on Matt, not even chicks care as much about appearance as you do." Alfred said, his thoughts of the past few weeks coming out. He continued changing channels, not wanting to look at him right now. If he saw that cute face, surely he would break and let it go.

"I don't care about what I look like, just my weight." Matthew knew he would never be beautiful, but he could at least control how much he weighed. It was always something he could control, even when he wasn't sure which night he would be beat for not getting perfect on a test, or which night his father would be too drunk to care.

Shaking his head again, Alfred stood up and left the remote on the couch. "Fine then, why not get all the diet shit in the world and starve yourself to death." He said harshly. He didn't want to pace, so he went into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Upset by Alfred's reaction, Matthew stood up and followed him. He wasn't about to drop this. "I'm not trying to kill myself, don't you see it? I just want to be happy." His mouth was already feeling pasty and dry, but he didn't want to get water.

"Why do you need to worry about your weight to be happy? You would think this relationship would do that. Or do you care more about the scale than me?" Alfred asked, getting angry now. Couldn't he just accept that he was fine just the way he was?

"I care about how much I weigh _because_ I care about you!" Now Matthew was starting to raise his voice. Why wasn't Alfred understanding it?

It took a second for that to sink in, for Alfred to fully comprehend what he had said. Once he did, there was no question about it. He was pissed. "Oh, so what, I'm so fucking shallow that I will dump you based on looks? What the fuck?"

Unable to say anything before Alfred stormed out of the room, Matthew dissolved onto the floor in hiccoughing sobs. He wanted to cry, to call out to Alfred about how he could never be shallow, but the hard lump in his throat stopped him. Plus, it didn't seem as if any tears were coming out of his eyes. They were just shedding faux tears as he tried to explain through the pain in his throat added with a bought of nausea.

Alfred walked to the car, wanting to get away. He was still fuming, even if he knew it would take a while to fix what had just happened. How dare Matthew say that? Did he really think that he wouldn't like him if he gained a few pounds?

Feeling the familiar feel of bile rising in the back of his throat he got up from the floor quickly and almost fell over again before crawling to the bathroom. He was so sick and dizzy it didn't make sense but he couldn't think about that now. All Matthew had to do was throw up. Hopefully then he would feel better and he would be able to phone Al's cell phone to explain.

Getting to the toilet, Matthew quickly threw up into it without prodding and then fell next to it. He felt so weak and dizzy that everything was sliding in and out of focus. All he could do was stay curled up on the floor and try to will the world to stop moving. Just why was this all happening? What did he do to deserve it? Maybe it was for making Alfred upset...

Francis knocked on the door, finding it open. He had wondered when he didn't see Alfred's car in the drive way, but this made it even stranger. "Matthew? Alfred? Is anyone here?" He asked to the quiet house. He was about to leave when he heard a crash from deeper in the house. "Matthew? Is that you?" He called out again, hoping someone would come out soon. He followed the noise to the bathroom and opened the door.

"Matthew!" He yelled, seeing the boy on the floor, looking as frail and white as a piece of paper. There was a Kleenex box on the floor beside him, which might have made the sound, and there was obviously puke in the toilet. He knelt down, worried. "_Mon dieu_, are you alright? I need to get you to the hospital."

Looking up at the figure in front of him, Matthew couldn't make sense of why Alfred was speaking French and looked somewhat like Francis. "Eh?" He mumbled, he entire body shaking from fatigue and dizziness.

"Can you stand? We have to get you out of here." Francis put his arm around him, trying to get him to stand up and get to the car. Matthew's eyes were unfocused and he was breathing heavily.

Barely managing to shake his head, Matthew retched a bit but didn't throw up. "Too sick..." Everything was spinning around and he felt as if the ground wanted to swallow him up. Where was Alfred? Did he actually get upset and leave?

Taking a plastic bag, Francis continued trying to get him to stand. "If you have to throw up, here is a bag. Come on we have to go." He got Matthew standing, leaning against him. He wasn't sure where a phone was, so he couldn't call for an ambulance.

Barely holding onto the bag, Matthew let himself be pulled up. There was no way he could keep himself up now. Despite the feeling of wanting to go to sleep, he couldn't help but think about just how upset he made his boyfriend. It didn't make sense, since he was just making sure that he would like him. "Where.... Al?"

"I don't know. I can call him after we get to the hospital." Francis practically carried him out the door, not liking how frail he looked. What could have possibly happened to make him like this?

That wasn't good enough; not after their fight. He wanted to make sure that Alfred was ok, because he was the reason he felt there was a reason to live and love. "Now." Matthew mumbled pathetically, his stomach jostling along with Francis' steps.

"When we get to the hospital." Francis repeated, worrying about how out of it Matthew was. He didn't seem to really understand what was happening, and his head was rolling about looking all around.

Closing his eyes again, Matthew felt like he was crying but without tears coming out. He was just so tired and sad. Why wouldn't Francis let him talk to Al? He had to explain what he meant since there was no way that Alfred was shallow; none at all. Matthew just knew that there were prettier, smarter people out there than him, and he didn't want Al to leave him.

Finally getting out the front door, Francis closed it behind them and made sure Matthew got down the steps without falling. They got to his car, so he let go with one hand to open the passenger side, letting the blond sit down and buckled him up. "Here is the bag."

Not using any more energy than he had to, Matthew just rested his head against the window. All he wanted to do was talk to Alfred and get this misunderstanding figured out. Why did he have to run away?

Luckily there was hardly any traffic, because Matthew was looking worse by the minute. His eyes were sunken, and his skin looked like wax. Damn, what was wrong with him? They quickly got to the hospital, and he parked. "Come on, let's get out." Francis said, getting out and going to the passenger door.

"I want Al." Using the small amount of energy he had, Matthew managed to mumble again. Francis just didn't get it. If he found Alfred, then everything would be fine. They didn't even need to go to the hospital; he was just feeling dizzy and tired. Some sleep and he would be fine.

Once the passenger door was open, Francis grabbed Matthew by the shoulders, not hard but enough to make him look at him. "Matthew, you are sick. You need to get help. Then you can talk to Alfred all you want, but you need help right now." He hoped this would work. It used to work, when they were kids and the Canadian had a broken arm, or had a deep cut, or just plain needed to get out of his house.

Focusing on Francis, he just nodded slowly. Matthew would just have to listen to him for the time being. Maybe once they were in he would be able to talk with Alfred again. He just couldn't stand knowing that Alfred was upset with him.

Unbuckling the shivering man, Francis helped him out of the car. He had gotten a spot quite close, so it wasn't too far that they would have to walk, which was good considering how much Matthew had to hold onto him.

By the time they were inside the hospital, the Canadian had once again lost his focus on the world and only wanted to lay on the ground and sleep. Everything was spinning around him in a white blur and he couldn't remember just what was so important that he felt he had to do.

Going to the counter, Francis got the attention of a nurse. Once she saw Matthew, she quickly came out and felt for his pulse, temperature and breathing, then ushered them into a room. After getting his medical records, she gave him an IV and started asking Francis questions. After that she left, to get a doctor.

Now that he was laying down, Matthew's head stopped spinning as much, but his stomach continued. "Sick..." He said quietly, trying to warn Francis that he was going to throw up again. Why weren't they phoning Alfred yet? They were in the hospital now, and even if he didn't want his boyfriend to worry more, he knew he needed to clear up their fight.

Holding Matthew's hand, Francis looked around for something. There was a small garbage near the bed that he could use if he needed to puke again. "It's alright, you're going to be fine." He said, trying to sooth him.

Matthew squeezed Francis' hand as he felt a bit more energy pool in his body. "Can we phone Al now?" He still felt weak and somewhat dizzy, but whatever was in the IV was starting to make his body feel less drained.

Just then the doctor came in, holding a clipboard and smiling. Francis bit his lip slightly. "I can phone him for you. I'll be just outside." He left the white room, finding a pay phone since he left his in the car. He dialled Alfred's cell, hearing the ringing.

"Hello? Who is this?" He sounded slightly out of breath, but other than that completely fine.

"This is Francis. Eugh... Matthew is in the hospital."

Inside the room, the doctor was checking up on the various machines that were also attached to his body before turning to Matthew. "With your symptoms that your friend has told us, it seems as if you have a severe case of dehydration. This IV will bring you mostly back to normal, but the only way you can stay this way is if you drink lots of water. Have you been sick lately? It is common for people who have severe diarrhoea or vomit a lot to become dehydrated. It is also common if you do a lot of sports and fail to drink enough water during and after."

The doctor continued to talk and ask questions, but Matthew was hardly paying attention after the vomiting comment. He never even thought about losing water because of throwing up, but it did make sense. Though at this point in time he could hardly care about anything other than going to sleep and talking to his boyfriend.

Running through the hallways, Alfred tried to find the right one. Why did they make these things so damn confusing? Finally, he ran into Francis. "Where is he!" He asked, not even thinking rationally at this point. Francis pointed to a door, and he ran in. "Matt! God Matt are you alright?" He said, now walking calmly to his side. He didn't want to freak him out or anything.

Opening his eyes, Matthew's heart sped up when he heard Al's voice. Partially because he really wanted to see him but mostly because he was scared he would still be upset with him. "Alfred..." He mumbled, his eyes already becoming glassy with tears. Seeing him look so worried made Matthew a bit less worried, but he didn't want his boyfriend to be worried about him.

Grabbing his hand, Alfred brought it up to his lips. "Matt, are you alright? Francis called me." He said, hoping he was alright. He didn't look too bad, but the IV in his arm was making the American nervous.

"I'm fine, just a bit tired." Smiling nervously, he just flexed his hand. "I'm sorry about the fight. I didn't mean what I said; you aren't shallow. Not one bit." Everyone cared about looks, but there were people much worse than both of them in that way.

"It's fine, Matt. Forget about it." He smiled, not wanting Matthew to have to deal with that when he was like this. God, what if Francis hadn't gone there? He shouldn't have just left, he should have stayed there! He could have died!

Shaking his head lightly, Matthew mumbled. "It's not ok; I made you upset, and I never want to do that. I love you too much for us to fight." What did he care about being in the hospital? If he had it his way he would still be at home sleeping it off. Matthew was just glad the doctor tried not to pry about why he was like this.

"So you're dehydrated? It's not like you never drink water or anything." He would usually have a glass with meals, so it shouldn't make him this dehydrated. Oh well, Alfred would just have to always make sure he had enough water from now on.

"That's what he said..." Hopefully Alfred wouldn't think too much about just why he was this bad. There was no way after their fight that he would tell his boyfriend just why he was so dehydrated and skinny. Although, he had noticed that he was slowly gaining weight back even when he purged...

Nodding, Alfred sat on the side of the small bed. "Well, when can you come home? Did they say?" Because he didn't like the idea of Matthew staying in this place all alone, especially what had happened a few nights ago. He hadn't had a nightmare since, but Al was still worried.

Matthew just sighed with fatigue. "I'm not sure. I think they want me to stay overnight just to make sure the IV does it's job." He couldn't think of why Al would be worried with him staying here, other than the fact that he wouldn't be home. "I'll be ok. I've been in the hospital before; it's not a big deal."

"What were you in the hospital for?" Alfred asked, wondering if it was something like getting his appendix removed. Although, wouldn't that mean he would have a scar? Maybe Canadian doctors had a special way of doing it so there wasn't one.

Realizing his mistake, Matthew hurriedly covered it up. "Nothing too bad! Just stitches and stuff from playing hockey. They just kept me to make sure I didn't have a concussion." That had happened once, but it was usually whenever Francis found him after his father beat him that he would go.

Nodding, Alfred went to go get a chair. He wanted to stay here for as long as they would let him. Maybe he could hit on the nurses and they would let him stay the whole night. Being amazing was always good for things like that. "I've mostly been in the principals office for putting _other_ kids in the hospital." He said with a laugh.

Laughing quietly, he let his eyelids stay shut for an extra second before opening his eyes again. Seeing that Alfred was sitting down next to him, Matthew murmured. "You can lay with me... If you want to."

"There may be room enough for two of you on there, but with you and my muscles, it would be a tight fit." Alfred laughed, looking at the tiny bed. He was happy that Matthew was getting more comfortable being with him when they were in public, though.

Matthew just shook his head. "I don't mind." He just wanted to be close to him after everything that had happened today. It was obvious he was going to have to both apologize and thank Francis. Speaking of him... "Where did Francis go?"

"Oh..." Alfred said, realizing he had completely forgotten about him in his panic. He got up and went to the door, seeing the Frenchman talking to the doctor. "Hey, Matthew's feeling better. Want to come in?"

"_D'accord_. Thank you for telling me." Francis said to the doctor and went in the room. He had been asking about side effects of dehydration, and the doctor had said that usually they stop having tears or sweating, their skin dries out, and in some cases, like Matthew's, they can vomit, which makes them even more dehydrated.

When Francis came back into the room with a small frown, Matthew immediately started to ramble in French. "_Thank you Francis. I'm sorry that I inconvenienced you so much. You didn't have to do any of this..."_

Also responding in French, Francis went to the bedside. "_It is no more an inconvenience than when we were children, do not worry._" Matthew was always trying to not let people care about him, always wanting to be his own person. He had hoped that when he started dating Alfred that he would start relying more on others.

"_As much as I appreciate it, it's not your job, nor has it ever been. I can take care of myself now, my father isn't here to make things more difficult."_ Unless he was speaking French, Matthew would never be brave enough to say that around Alfred. He just knew that he might only understand one or two words just because they were very similar to English.

Alfred rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "You guys are doing it again. Speaking in that strange alien language." He said, sitting down. Now Matthew was looking even better, so he wasn't as worried as before. The IV must be helping.

"It's just French. And if you were so interested in knowing what we were saying you would learn it." Matthew only goaded him because he knew that Alfred would never take the time to learn enough to understand them.

"We call people from other countries aliens, and since French is not from America technically it is an alien language." Alfred was proud of his logic. It was true American logic, and since he was the only American in the room, they would have to take his word for that.

Seeing Francis' grin, Matthew smiled as well. "Need we remind you about the Louisiana purchase from France?" Technically it was French and part of America. "Will you please cuddle with me now?"

"The what? You mean the French invaded America?" He exclaimed, standing up and moving closer to Matthew. But it really was a small bed... "The only way I can fit on that thing is if you're on top of me."

Sitting up for a moment so that Alfred could lay down, Matthew just snuggled up on top of him, feeling his muscular chest under his head. "You don't have to stay here if you have other places to be Francis." He mumbled over to his friend.

Laughing, the Parisian started towards the door. "Alright. But if you get caught by the nurse, don't come crying to me." And he left, leaving Matthew in Alfred's hands.

Alfred reached down, running his fingers through Matt's hair. "Are you sure you're alright? Do you need anything?" He would keep asking, even if he always got the same answer. Maybe one of these days the Canadian would depend on him enough to actually say he did need something.

"I'm fine. I just want to make sure that you aren't angry with me anymore." It was hard enough knowing he could never be enough for his own family, he didn't need the feeling from his lover as well.

Taking a deep breath and watching as Matthew's head went up and down on his chest, Alfred let his hand go to rest on his shoulder. "I wasn't really angry. It's just I don't like it when you always put yourself down."

"I'm sorry. You know it's hard for me not to." It didn't really feel like he was completely over it, but Matthew wasn't going to prod. If anything, he was more shaken by it then Al seemed to be. Shifting into a more comfortable position, he moved the arm with the IV so it wouldn't pull at it.

Looking at the clear tube going into Matthew's skin, Alfred rubbed the red skin around it. "Does it hurt?" He asked, because he never liked it when he was in any kind of pain. Of course, he could handle it, but Alfred would rather take all the pain for him.

Hissing a bit, he just smiled. "When you rub it, yes. I'm fine, please stop worrying about me." All he wanted to do was sleep now, since he was feeling much better now.

Taking his hand away, Alfred left it alone. "But I like worrying about you." And he had every right to worry about him when he got a call saying Matthew was in the hospital. It had been a horrible feeling, even after Francis had said he would be alright.

"I know." Lifting his head up from Al's chest, he quickly kissed his lips before laying back down. The calming rhythm of his heart beat and breathing was luring him closer to sleep.

"Well, I guess I'm gonna be a pillow, hey?" Alfred said, looking down and seeing Matthew already closing his eyes. He put his head on the small pillow, thumb making small circles in the pale skin. It was a good thing this was a private room, or else they would have been found out immediately.


	11. Chapter 11

As the doctor said, the next day Matthew was being pushed out of the hospital in a wheelchair by Alfred. He had vehemently denied that he needed one, but the nurses insisted that he was to be helped out.

"Maybe we should buy one of these. Quite helpful." Alfred said, pushing the chair out the door and to his car. He had been kicked out last night, mostly because the nurse was like 300 pounds and he didn't have the guts to hit on her. But he had shown up early today, and was now taking Matthew out.

"It's not like I need one all the time. I don't need it now either." He was much better now, and he didn't want to be more of a pain on Alfred.

Smiling, Alfred didn't mention that he liked pushing him around like a baby. They got to the car, and Matthew got out of the chair. "I'm gonna return this. Stay in the car, and I have a present for you when I get back."

Matthew couldn't help but feel somewhat excited for whatever Al had in store. It wasn't like he was going to run away anyways, but it was a nice thing to have something to look forward to. That wasn't what he was the most excited for; he was just glad that they made up and they were going to be able to be in love.

Getting back to the car, Alfred sat in the driver's seat before pulling out the present. "It's a water bottle!"

"Thank you, but I already promised you that I wouldn't get sick like this again." Although he was smiling, Matthew was a bit sad that Alfred was still worried about him. It was endearing that he wanted to protect him, but he was sometimes trying to do things that he couldn't do to try and help.

"You say that, but I bet you still won't drink as much water as you're supposed to." Alfred said, shaking the bottle to show that there was water in it now, and handed it to Matthew. "Now drink. You don't have the IV anymore, so you need to drink even more."

Flipping the lid open, Matthew took a few sips before closing it again. "Again, thank you Al. I love you." He didn't want him to worry about him so much, so he would have to make sure not to get sick again. If he had to purge, he would just make sure to drink a lot of water after.

"I don't want any water left in there by the time we get home." He said, determined to make Matthew drink as much as his body would handle. Especially if they were doing any strenuous activity, like sex. Then he would definitely be drinking plenty of water.

Rolling his eyes jokingly, he just opened it again and continued to sip away at it. He had always liked water, Matthew just never thought he would ever get sick from throwing up all the time. The logical part of his mind was pointing out the obvious to him, but he still didn't drink water before.

It took about ten minutes for them to get home, and after he shut the car off, Alfred grabbed the bottle, shaking it to see if there was any left. "Very good. So you will have this with you wherever you go, and always have water in it, right?"

"Unless I've already drank it all and can't get any more; yes." Matthew just hugged his boyfriend. "But you do realize I can take care of myself? I'm not a baby." After all, he learnt from a young age how to take care of both him and his father.

Looking at him, Alfred lifted an eyebrow. "Matthew, you were hospitalized for not drinking enough water. That's like the stupidest thing to ignore ever." It was mean, but the American would blame himself if it happened again.

Giving a melodramatic sigh, Matthew just smiled after. "I know, I know. It _was_ pretty stupid, but I promised it wouldn't happen again. Ever." He couldn't have Alfred feel as if he had to watch him all the time. Purging was still keeping him skinny, but he was going to have to find something else to keep his weight down as well. Maybe exercise would work...

Pulling him closer into a hug, Al rubbed his head. "It better not." Because he wasn't sure if he could go through that again. He could have died if not for Francis, and it would have been his fault for storming out after their fight!

Laughing lightly, Matthew just unlocked the door to their house and got in. It was a nice feeling being back home after the hospital; which was a somewhat foreign feeling. When he used to come back, it was to an angry parent, yelling at him about how he wasn't worth the bills.

Once inside, Alfred grabbed Matthew in a tight hug and brought him into a deep kiss, holding the back of his head. He hadn't really been able to touch him like this at the hospital, with everyone around. "Don't scare me like that again."

"I won't." Reciprocating the kiss, Matthew was glad to feel that he didn't feel as weak as he had for the last few days. Sure there was still a small edge, but not nearly as bad. "Bedroom?"

Smirking evilly, Alfred took him by the arm, going down the hall. On the way, he started kissing his hand, mostly sucking so it made a red mark that was all his. He would mark Matthew all over if it meant that no one else would ever touch him.

Squirming from the kisses, Matthew pulled his face up to kiss him again. "Not too many marks. People might stare." That was one good thing about being an author: he could stay home as much as he wanted and hide until his hickeys went away.

"No one will suspect if it's on your hand. That is way easier to explain away than if it's on your neck." It was always funny when Arthur tried to dignify himself by saying he fell down the stairs, amazingly only getting a bruise on his neck.

Taking in an airy gasp as Alfred brought one of his fingers into his mouth, Matthew couldn't help but feel turned on. They hadn't done anything sexual for about a week, and for them that was already pushing it. They were both horny guys as much as it was embarrassing to think about, and they couldn't stay off each other.

Finally making it to the bed, Alfred helped Matt lay down onto it, and he lay next to him. Since they just came back from the hospital, he didn't think they would go all the way, maybe just a blow job or 69.

Bringing their mouths together again, Matthew pushed against Al's lips so that their tongues could intertwine and dance. Both of their hands were roaming the other's body as if they were starving for each other.

Putting both hands under Matthew's shirt, Alfred lifted it up, too preoccupied to bother taking it off completely. His mouth left Matt's to go down his flat stomach, kissing a path to his belly button. When he got there, he dipped his tongue into the small depression.

Groaning and squirming under Alfred's path, he mumbled. "Please, I need you." Matthew didn't care that he just got out of the hospital, he desperately wanted Al. After their fight, this would be their form of 'making up'.

"Alright." He said, and started working on Matthew's pants. He moved up on the bed so that the Canadian could reach his pants, and this way would make it much easier for what he had in mind. Did semen could as drinking fluids?

Immediately understanding what Alfred was getting at from the position, Matthew started to work on getting Al's pants undone. Once they were, he pushed them down awkwardly and palmed the growing bulge. "It's nice to see you too."

"Yeah, he missed you." Alfred said with a laugh. He pushed Matthew's pants down along with his underwear, seeing the cute Canadian cock. "I think he wants to give you a welcome home kiss, too." Why were they pretending like his dick was a person? Oh well, at the moment it was hot as fuck.

Smiling even though what they were doing was quite strange, Matthew proceeded to take of his boyfriends underwear off as well before kissing the head lightly; flicking his tongue out to meet it and taste the addicting flavour of his precum.

"Mm, fuck Matt..." Alfred mumbled, dipping his head down to also lick the slit of the cock waiting for him. It had been a while since he had last tasted this, so it helped turn him on even more, if that was possible.

Whining against the cock in his lips, the Canadian just continued to lick and kiss it. His hands raised to take the rest of the shaft and pump it slowly as his mouth continued to tease the head.

Tracing a vein with his tongue, Alfred let the appendage slip past his lips. He matched his pace to the one Matthew was using for his own cock, Alfred bobbing his head down. He took his mouth off it for a second so he could coat one of his fingers in saliva before going back to his job.

Moaning with the cock in his mouth, Matthew couldn't help but rock his hips slightly. He stilled them right away, but it was still hard not to move. "Al..." He mumbled when he took it out to lick up along the length.

Slipping his finger between his legs, Alfred found Matthew's hole. It was always something else that he could do with blow jobs that always made Matt even harder, as it was doing now. He felt some precum drip down the back of his throat.

This time the strawberry blond let out a truly embarrassing moan as his hole was fondled as well as his cock. "_Al..._" Not wanting him to be left out, he redoubled his efforts to make his lover feel just as amazing.

"Yes?" He asked quickly, taking his mouth off his length for a second before putting his mouth on the side, sucking on the skin lightly. He wasn't sure what would happen if he left a hickey there...

With the warmth off his dick, Matthew mewled pathetically. "Please don't stop... Al..." The suction on his thigh was driving him crazy and he couldn't think straight. All he wanted was to climax now.

Listening to the request, Alfred once again started sucking on his shaft. His own cock felt great inside Matthew's mouth, feeling his tongue move around over it. He mimicked the action, humming delightedly when he felt a shiver run through the Canadian.

Matthew shivered even more as Alfred hummed around his weeping erection. It was like they were playing follow the leader as the Canadian would follow what Al was doing to him then he would set the pace. Both were driving Matt insane since he was already so sensitive.

Curling his finger, Alfred looked for his prostate, knowing how much Matthew liked that spot. He had never known before that touching that body part would do anything. Suddenly he felt a brushing of teeth on his cock and his mouth stilled, so he figured he had found it.

After getting distracted, Matthew doubled his actions again. He knew Al was going to try and get him to cum first so he wanted his boyfriend to be soon after if not at the same time. Bobbing his head along it, he rolled his tongue against the hard flesh before bringing it deep in his throat.

Loving the feeling when Matthew deep throated him, Alfred tried to copy the action, but he had always had more of a gag reflex than the Canadian. It was always amazing how much he could take without having to pull out.

Matthew continued the actions of deep throating Al's cock before pulling it out to suck on the head. Doing it again, this time he moaned around it as his boyfriend did things to his cock that made his eyes roll in the back of his head. Desperate, he swallowed around it, squeezing the head with his throat.

Knowing that very soon they would both be finished, Alfred doubled his efforts. He always wanted Matthew to cum first, so he tried to keep from climaxing too quickly.

Whimpering against the cock that was still in his mouth, Matthew was distracted for a second as Alfred started to jab his prostate as well as lick and suck at his length. "Please," he murmured after sliding the hard flesh from his mouth.

"Please what?" Alfred asked, slipping him mouth back over the cock. Sometimes Matthew just had to say what he wanted, or he wouldn't know. He put another finger in beside his first one, going deeper with them.

"Make me cum!" He whined again, a soft keening sound coming from his chest. Licking along Alfred's length, he could help but try to push against the fingers inside him.

Sucking harder, Alfred went to work on just that. His free hand held the base, pumping what he couldn't fit in his mouth. Soon his fingers were being squeezed and Matthew was cumming in his mouth. The American swallowed it all, seconds before he climaxed as well.

Sucking greedily at his boyfriends softening erection, Matthew made sure to milk as much as he could before letting it slide past his lips with a wet sound. He was feeling the post-cotial bliss wash through his body as Al turned around to lay next to him. "We haven't done that in a while."

"Yeah. It was nice. And now..." Before settling down beside him, Alfred reached over and grabbed the water bottle. "I filled it for you!" He said. Matthew had just done some strenuous activity, so obviously he would be needing water.

Holding back the urge to roll his eyes, Matthew pouted instead. "Are you saying you don't want me to taste you?" Maybe his jealous monster that cohabited inside his body would let him not have to drown himself.

Smirking, Alfred shook his head. "I'm not saying that, because I taste amazing. But you need water, especially after something that makes you pant like that. You should be glad I didn't make you stop in the middle to drink."

This time he did roll his eyes even if it was mostly in jest. "Like you would have. I'm glad you care about me so much though." Really, his father would have just yelled at him about being a fat bitch who couldn't do anything right.

Laughing, Alfred got off the bed. It was only about noon, after all. "K, drink up and you should have a rest. I'll make some lunch." Mm, hamburgers for lunch was always a good thing. And Matthew couldn't get mad at him for it, because he knew very well that hamburgers were the only thing he could make.

Knowing full well that him making lunch either meant hamburgers or soup from a can, Matthew let himself lay against the bed. He would have to eat it so Al wouldn't get suspicious but he was going to make up for it eventually. Grabbing the water bottle, he opened it and started to drink as asked. It was the least he could do after making him so worried.

Realizing they didn't have any pre-made hamburger patties in the house, Alfred decided to make Mac and Cheese instead. It was even easier than Hamburgers, because you didn't have to worry about the bun. Whenever they ate this, though, Matthew always called it like JD or something like that. He made no sense sometimes.

Still relaxing on the bed, Matthew finished off the water inside and focused on loathing the feeling of the water sloshing inside him instead of thinking about anything else. It was just nice to be out of the hospital with them both happy again; the fight in the past. Matthew knew that actually living together would create more friction, but if they could get over it, it would make their relationship stronger.

Once the food was finished, Alfred carried a bowl into the room. "Alright, I have your JD here. I may have overcooked the noodles a little, but it is still edible." And the sauce was probably still lumpy, but it didn't matter.

"Stop trying to use Canadianisms when you don't say them right. It's KD." Matthew laughed, making fun of his boyfriend. "This is much better than the junk at the hospital. It actually has flavour."

"Well of course it has flavour. I made it, didn't I?" What kind of a name was KD anyway? JD was much better, because it was close to DJ, and DJs are awesome. He sat down on the bed with his own bowl of Mac and Cheese, taking a bite and marvelling that it wasn't somehow burnt.

Smiling, Matthew let himself enjoy the meal. It might not have been much, but it meant the world to him that Alfred wanted to and enjoyed taking care of him. Even if sometimes it got annoying, in the end it was extremely endearing.

Finished his bowl, Alfred glanced at Matthew's, which was hardly half gone. "If... you're not gonna eat that..." He said, lifting an eyebrow. He was still hungry, after all. This 'KD' didn't even compare to burgers.

Passing it over, he watched Al all but inhale it. "It's a wonder we have enough money with the amount you eat." Matthew knew that it was somewhat mean, but his boyfriend was much too optimistic to take it as anything but the joke it was.

"Yeah, but you eat hardly anything, so I just make up for it." Alfred said between bites. Soon he was finished, and took both their dishes to the sink and started running water. "You should stay in bed all day. I can bring your laptop or something so you can write."

"It's ok, I'll get it after I go to the bathroom." Matthew said before locking himself in. It would _not _be good if Alfred saw him like this just after going to the hospital. Getting on his knees, he threw up into the toilet; it was mostly water, so it wasn't as bad as normal. Brushing his teeth and the like, he made it out just as Alfred was finished. "I decided to brush my teeth as well; didn't get a chance in the hospital."

Kissing him, Alfred tasted the familiar mint taste. For some reason, it seemed that he tasted like it a lot. But he didn't mind it, because he quite liked the taste of mint. "So I took off work all day, so what do you want to do?"

Matthew kissed Alfred back again before brushing him off. "I don't know. Getting some rest would be nice because I never get enough." He tried to keep his voice sarcastic since it was quite obvious that if they both had the day off neither of them would be resting.

"Well, if you are getting some rest, then you should go to the bedroom." Alfred smirked, picking him up and heading to the bedroom.

* * *

For all of you that don't know, KD stands for Kraft Dinner, and is basically exactly the same as Mac and Cheese, but so much better because KD is all Canadian and is the best thing in the world. So there!


	12. Chapter 12

Days and weeks went by since Matthew had gone to the hospital. He was feeling much better with all the water Alfred had made him drink, but there was a source of stress that was slowly seeping back into his life. Despite the very occasional binge -which had only happened when Alfred was working overtime again; he didn't want him to know- followed by regular purging, Matthew wasn't losing weight anymore. Now, it was like all his efforts were backtracking and he was gaining back the precious pounds he had managed to shed. At first it was only a few which he attributed to water weight that he was gaining back (that was ok), but after that it was quite obvious it was fat. The one thing that he desperately wanted to get rid of.

The more the needle on the scale tipped up, the lower Matthew's mood became. He was addicted to checking his weight in a way that Al wouldn't notice, but it was becoming his emotional life line. With the extra pounds, he didn't know what to do. Nothing was helping, or at least nothing he had been doing before.

Then as if an epiphany struck him, he found a way. Alfred was always skinny right? Why was that? Because he worked out. It might not have been much, but over the long run it kept him fit and thin. Exactly what Matthew needed right now. To be thin.

It didn't take long on his computer before he had devised a schedule for him to abide to. The Canadian would still have to watch what he ate to a degree and still purge occasionally, but it should take care of the few pounds that were making his mood plummet.

Alfred walked into the room, scratching his head. "Hey. You writing?" He asked, having just gotten back from work. He still hadn't washed his hands, so he didn't touch Matthew, knowing he didn't like being greasy.

"Trying." Matthew half-lied, saving the document. He would have to start soon if he wanted to lose the weight quickly. It would be the best for both of them, since he would become happier while Al would fall deeper in love again.

"Alright. I'll leave you to it then. I should go to the gym anyway." He leaned over, kissing Matthew on the forehead. He went to the sink, getting his hands wet and getting some soap. "Do you need anything while I'm out?"

Gym? Would he mind if Matthew tagged along? It would be something they could do together that would make him feel better at the same time... Hitting two birds with one stone! "Could I come with you? I mean, if you don't want me to I understand."

Tuning back around, Alfred shrugged. "Sure, but you need a membership. Why do you want to? You've never been interested before." He hoped it was nothing to do with Matthew's weight. They hadn't really spoken about it since the hospital, so he didn't want to get into it again.

"I don't know, I just figured you went so often that we could try it together. Maybe then I'd be less of a weakling." Laughing lightly, Matthew didn't want to mention his weight because it was still a sore subject with them. He knew that Al would never admit to preferring him skinny like the girls he used to like, but it didn't ever mean he was shallow.

Laughing, Alfred shut the water off. Maybe if Matthew was stronger, he wouldn't have to worry about him as much, and that would be nice. "Alright. Do you have any shorts or anything? Don't have to worry about a shirt, cause I usually go topless."

Thinking for a second, he nodded. "I'll have to look for them but I have a pair. But... Do I have to not wear a shirt?" Not only did Matthew not have any muscle at all, but he was ashamed with his extra weight and didn't want Al to see it.

"Hm, good idea. Wouldn't want other guys eyeing up my prize." Alfred said, thinking it over. Matthew constantly having friends that were so obviously hitting on him was bad enough. Like that Cuban guy. He was much too tanned and good-looking to be near his boyfriend.

Glad that he would let him, Matthew smiled before shutting his laptop. "I'll just get a shirt and the shorts and I'll be ready. And my water bottle." He added as an after thought. That would probably keep Al happy and not thinking too much into this.

"And you better drink a lot of water." Alfred said, getting his own shorts. There was a fountain at the gym, so he would be able to refill it all he needed to. And considering how much they would both be sweating, Matthew would need as much water as he could get.

"I know, I know." He smiled as he looked through their dresser. They were buried under the clothes he normally wore, but Matthew finally found a pair of shorts that would work as well as a nondescript t-shirt. "I guess I'm ready."

They got to the gym fairly soon, since Alfred had picked one that was close to Matthew's house when he had made the move. He went up to the front desk, making a membership for Matthew. It didn't take very long, and soon they were in the change rooms.

Seeing all the other men that were already in there, Matthew just pointed over to the bathroom stalls. "I'll just go get changed quickly..."

Alfred nodded, already taking off his shirt. It didn't matter if others saw him, but he knew he would at least try to kick any guy's ass in here that watched Matt undress. And he probably would succeed with all these guys... except Tony. He... was scary.

Locking himself into a stall, the Canadian made short work of getting changed into his work out clothes. It felt silly and awkward to be here where everyone looked as if they could break him apart with two fingers, but he figured it was just because they were all regulars. Or extreme bodybuilders looking for toothpicks.

Waiting for Matthew to finish changing, Alfred started having a thumb war with one of the guys. "Ha! I win! Unless you want best out of three?" He asked after he pinned the other guy's thumb down. But just then, Matt came out of the stall.

"So now what?" He asked quietly as he stepped next to Alfred. Matthew was never gifted with self confidence so he felt highly scrutinized by all the people in the changing room.

"Now we work out." Al explained, leaving the changing room. He went to the weights section, picking out some lighter ones for warm up. "You can lift with me, or go do cardio over there. But since you said you wanna be stronger, weights would be good."

Looking at the assortment of weights and other equipment as if it was from another planet, Matthew asked. "What do I do?" He researched what he _should_ do, but not how to actually do them. All he knew was what muscles he wanted to target.

Shrugging, Alfred looked around. "You should start light. Maybe some curls with a 10lbs weight?" He wondered, picking up the right sizes. Or maybe even lighter would be good... "What do you want to work on, anyway?"

"Uh... The rectus abdominis was my main goal, but the pectoralius major would be good too."

Waiting for a second, Alfred shook his head. "Alright, the first one sounded like your butt. If you wanted to work that, we could have stayed home." How the hell was he supposed to know the names of all these? The gym was for working out, not biology.

Matthew should have realized he wouldn't know the scientific names for them, but it still made him laugh lightly. "I meant my abs and my chest. I don't really want to stay scrawny." In reality he didn't want to stay fat, but Al didn't need to know that.

Nodding, Alfred showed him some simple things he could do for those. Then he went to his own work out, knowing what to do. Half way through, he saw Mary walk in. "Hey! How's it going?" He asked, putting the weights down. They started talking, not having seen each other for a while.

Not stopping his work out, the strawberry blond watched Alfred and who he assumed to be one of his friends talk. She was quite thin and was attractive for a woman -not that Matthew would know, since she had too much breast for him to like- and his lover seemed to be pretty animated as they talked. She had even placed her hand lightly on his shoulder and he didn't do anything about it. Matthew knew it was pointless to be jealous, but he couldn't help but watch and pretend as if he was taking a sip of water instead.

"Oh, very nice. The circle thing must really work for you then." Alfred said, feeling her stomach. "You look just like the chick on the commercial." They both laughed as she put her hair in a ponytail. "Anyway, I should get back. Need to get stronger so I can beat people up, ya know."

Feeling the jealously course through his body from the casual touch, Matthew decided to fuel it into making himself thinner and more defined. If he could work out a bunch, then in no time he would become as thin as her which was what Alfred obviously liked. Why else would he have touched her?

Sitting back beside Matthew, Al picked up his weights again. "So how are you doing? Wanna change workouts, or are you good with this one?" He asked, lifting up his arm. Working out always made him feel so good. There was definitely a rush that came with it.

"I'm getting a bit tired so maybe a switch." Matthew knew he wasn't going to magically grow muscles, and since he was eating normally but not as much, he didn't have as much energy. It wouldn't be until he saw the results from working out that he would allow himself to eat normally.

"Alright. But first, drink." Alfred said, handing him the water bottle. To tell the truth, he felt good taking care of Matthew in this way. It made sure he wouldn't get sick again, for one thing. It still baffled him how he had gotten _that_ dehydrated.

Taking a large drink of water, Matthew wiped his mouth off with his hand before pouting subconsciously. Just what was so good about that girl anyways that Alfred felt the need to touch her in front of his boyfriend? Maybe he wasn't really gay but pretended to be for Matt, and actually much preferred women. After all, they were all mostly skinny and beautiful unlike most men.

"K, so this is how you do this one." Al said, teaching Matthew the new workout. He was completely unaware of the thoughts going on in his boyfriends head. In his mind, he would never cheat, so it didn't matter who he was friends with, especially if they were girls. Girls couldn't rape you like he worried most of Matt's friends wanted to do.

Following Alfred's instructions, the strawberry blond continued the exercise while his mind stayed on the woman. What was it that made Al laugh so much and touch her stomach? Was it because she was thin, or because she had muscle that Matthew was obviously lacking? Although he was already getting bored with the exercises, he knew he had to keep at it.

"Hey, Al!" Jennifer said, running up to him. "Good thing you're here. I need a spotter." She said with a smile. Just in case she might see him, she had worn only a half shirt today, showing off her belly button ring.

"Only if you be mine." Alfred laughed, getting up. "So Matt, just keep doing these for a while." He said, following her to another weight training machine.

Nodding with a false smile, it immediately fell off as Alfred walked away happily. It would have been much easier if Al only liked men like him, because it would be much easier to keep him from looking at women. Matthew never wanted breasts or to have someone with them, so he didn't really understand it, but made him slightly depressed that there was something he didn't have that his boyfriend seemed to want sometimes. Low numbers on the scale seeming to be the most likely thing at the time.

Going to sit with the girl, Alfred started helping her out. They talked about this and that, never really anything meaningful. He would occasionally look over his shoulder to see how Matthew was doing.

"So, you should bring your... girlfriend to the gym sometime. I'm sure she would like spending time with you here." Jennifer said, trying to find out if he was taken already or not.

Laughing, Al thought about what he should say to that. "Oh, I don't have a girlfriend." Because, he didn't have a girlfriend, he had a boyfriend. But he didn't really want to tell her that, because really that would be kind of awkward.


	13. Chapter 13

Matthew couldn't help but stare at Al and the random girl as they worked out together. He desperately wanted to know what they were talking about, but it would be awkward to go closer to them since they would easily find out just what he was doing. It didn't help though that Alfred kept looking back as if to make sure Matt wasn't watching them or something. Right now, he didn't want to do weights and watch them, so he put them down and walked over to one of the treadmills on the other side of the room.

Starting it up after putting his water bottle in the holder, he just ran. Now that he was moving, it was harder to think about what the other's were doing and talking about. Plus as an added bonus he was starting to sweat and feel as if he was actually doing something other than hurt his scrawny muscles.

Once he was finished being the spotter for Jen, Alfred told her she could return the favour some other time and went up to run beside Matthew. He didn't look cute for once. No, with his hair sticking to his face and his skin glistening with sweat, the American could say that his boyfriend now looked sexy. "Remember to drink. Even more important when you are running." He turned on his machine, starting off with a brisk walk.

Smiling meekly at him, he took a drink of water before continuing to run. Matthew felt silly for being jealous, but how could he not? They were looking over his bare chest with hungry eyes and the women were openly flirting with him. Well, they were living together, so he figured that counted for their relationship; not to mention the fact that Alfred cared about him so much. Suddenly, he felt immature for thinking so much about it and felt upset. What was it saying if he assumed that Al was losing interest in him because he was a few pounds overweight? He could just burn it off here.

Taking a drink from his own water bottle, Alfred got the machine to go faster. "How is your book coming along? I can't wait to read it." So it may take him a while to read the books Matthew wrote, but he got through them.

"It's ok. I'm a bit stuck with one of the plot points but it'll iron out soon enough." Matthew was a bit surprised that Al wasn't trying to show him up by running faster, but it was ok with him. Taking another drink to keep him happy, he just continued to lose himself to the burning rhythm.

"Well you know what I say. If there is a problem with the plot, just put a sex scene in there and no one will care." That's what he would do, anyway, if he were an author. Everyone liked a good sex book. Or movie. Or anything with sex, really.

Blushing, Matthew pushed his glasses back up as they slid down his sweaty nose. "I don't think a scene like that would work in a suspense/horror." Plus it would be much too embarrassing for him to write about something he wouldn't even talk about. Sure he was a bit adventurous in the bedroom but that was where real life didn't mean anything.

"Oh come on, you have to put those skills to use some other way." Alfred said, laughing a little breathlessly as he started running faster. Because damn, Matthew was good in the sack. Nervous and embarrassed, but still awesome.

"And you want other's to know about that?" Matthew asked, not wanting to discuss it much more in such a public place. It made him happy though, because then maybe the girls would realize that they were in a relationship even if it would be embarrassing to be overheard talking about things they did in bed.

Nodding, Alfred agreed. If anyone else knew how good Matthew was in bed, they would surely try to steal him. Much better to keep him all to himself. "Fine, then just add some explosions. They make everything better."

Laughing quietly since he was starting to get tired -he wasn't used to so much exercise- Matthew said, "So explosions and sex makes everything better, eh? You truly are an American man." Not that there was anything wrong with it, because obviously Matt liked him.

"The best place to be from." Alfred smiled, and then backtracked. "Well, besides Canada, of course." Because if all Canadians were as cute as Matthew was, he might just have to visit that big chunk of ice. Maybe he would when they met his family.

"That's better." Matthew smiled, panting heavily. This felt much more like a workout he could do without feeling too weak or bored. Plus now that he thought about it, he didn't think that Al would like him to be any more muscular.

Looking at the clock, Alfred shut off the machine. "Come on, we should shower up and go home." They hadn't had dinner yet, so it would be a good time now. He took another drink of water and pointed to Matthew's bottle.

Shutting off his own machine, Matthew waited until he had enough breath back to take a large gulp of water. "Ok, sounds good. Thank you for letting me come here with you." Even if he was feeling more strange knowing that girls were flirting with him here.

"Wanna shower together?" Alfred asked, smirking and grabbing Matthew's butt after making sure no one was looking.

Jumping a bit, Matthew just blushed. "It would be embarrassing with so many people around..." Plus then they would have to keep their hand to themselves and not freak everyone else out. After being gay most of his life, the strawberry blond knew that it wasn't a good thing to casually mention he was gay. Lots of people would start to act differently around him even if they didn't pay attention to him before.

Walking into the change rooms, Alfred laughed. "Come on, no one would care. Besides, they are open showers, not separate ones." None of the guys really cared about it, and it always seemed easier this way.

"Exactly! I don't want anyone getting upset..." If there was anything Matthew hated, it was being hated. It probably accounted for how his father treated him as a child, but the feeling to have to please stuck with him even now.

"No one will care." He decided not to mention that sometimes they all had mutual masturbations, all doing it at the same time. Of course, they all faced the wall, not wanting to see each other, but they could all hear and all knew perfectly well what was going on.

Taking another drink of water, Matthew ran his hand through his sweaty hair. "Can't I just shower at home?" As much as he loved Al, he didn't want him to see his body just yet. A few more pounds and maybe he would be ok with him seeing, but not a bunch of random, in shape men.

He should have known Matthew wouldn't want to be seen by a bunch of other men. And since he was gay, it may not be a good idea for him to go into the showers. Alfred realized that he wouldn't like it, because there was a slight chance he would get turned on by another man's naked body, and that would make him angry. "Alright then."

"Thank you Al..." Leaning closer to him, he whispered. "I really do appreciate you letting me come with you. I love you." Backing away, he smiled. "If you want, you can shower here and I'll wait for you in the car."

"No, you're right. If we shower at home, then there are no prying eyes, and we can do whatever we want." He started taking off his shorts and getting his clothes. Once naked, he towelled himself off before getting dressed.

Wait, Alfred was going to have a shower with him anyways? That would all but ruin the reason he wanted to wait until they got home to do so! "It's ok, you can have a shower here and I'll wait." Matthew really didn't want Alfred seeing him like this anyways: sweaty and overweight.

Throwing Matthew his own clothes, Al pulled his shirt over his head. "I'm already dressed. It's fine." Matthew was always way too considerate. "Are you gonna change or what?" He asked, putting his things in his gym bag.

"O-Ok then..." He stuttered lightly, going into a change room to put on his clothes. Why did Al want to do things with him _now_? Especially when he felt so gross? It wasn't until he was at least ten pounds skinner that he would be back where he used to be in order to feel comfortable being naked around him.

When Matthew got out, they headed to the car. Soon they were home and Alfred was already throwing off his clothes for the shower. "What is the point of clothes if all you do it take them off and put them on?" He muttered to himself. "Ya coming?"

"It's ok, you have one first. I just got an idea how to get unstuck with my book." Matthew yelled out from their bedroom. It wasn't the truth, but he could still try and work on it until he could have a shower alone.

Giving a small pout, Alfred went in the room and quickly hugged him before heading to the shower after taking off his clothes and glasses. He had wanted to have a shower together, because they hadn't for a while, but if Matthew had a stroke of genius, he didn't want to keep him from his work.

Opening up the document with his manuscript on it, Matthew waited for the shower to start before sighing. If only he wasn't so weak and tired, he would have been able to stay there longer and try and work off more weight. He would feel bad if he didn't use up the month Alfred had bought for him, but after that running around the neighbourhood would probably work just as well.

Washing himself off, Alfred's hand rested near his cock for a good minute. But then he move on, thinking they could have sex tonight. Yeah, that would be good, because they hadn't last night. So he should save up his juices, so they could make love as much as they wanted.

With the water shut off, Matthew saw Al come out of the bathroom just as he shut his computer. "I'll only be a little bit. Think of what you want for dinner for when I'm done." He was hungry, but he could wait. Plus Alfred always seemed to like it when he cooked for him. Maybe because he could pretend as if he was his girlfriend... No, he promised himself he wouldn't think of that.

"Oh, so what, you couldn't have a shower with me, but ten minutes later when I get out you can? That's no fair." Alfred whined, sticking out his bottom lip. He really liked seeing Matthew all wet and naked, even if they didn't end up doing anything in the shower.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to get my idea down before showering. Plus I feel really gross with sweat now." Despite his comment, he still went up to Al and gave him a hug; pressing his face against his warm, moist skin on his shoulder.

Smiling, Alfred ruffled his long hair. "Fine. But about the whole dinner thing, I think I want you to eat." He laughed, licking the side of Matthew's cheek. Of course, he still wanted food, because he hadn't eaten for a while.

Matthew shivered a bit as he pulled away. "Think about something that _wouldn't_ be cannibalism and I'll try to make it." He knew that Al wanted to have sex, but he didn't feel comfortable being that close to him right now, especially if he was naked. Then he could see all the extra fat and be disgusted.

Rolling his eyes, Alfred walked to the living room. "Fine. Whatever you make will be good." Because Matthew was always a good cook, so it would be fine. He would offer to help, but they both knew from experience that never ended well.

Going into the bathroom, Matthew quickly shed his clothes and glasses after locking to door. He felt almost sneaky about it, but he really didn't want Al to lose interest in him just because he was a bit overweight right now. Turning on the shower, he washed all the sweat off his body and made sure he was nice and clean. Still, it didn't take long and only a few minutes later he was out and getting himself dried off.

Matthew slipped his glasses back on and put on his house coat before tying it up and going out of the bathroom. Finding Al on the couch watching TV, he went into the kitchen and started making something he knew would cheer up his boyfriend and in turn himself.

Tilting his head back so he could see Matthew, Alfred gave a sigh. "You really have to find a sexier house coat. Or even better, you could get like a frilly apron and just wear that, so I can see your ass." He said with a wide grin.

Blushing, Matthew just turned around and pretended to frown. "Are you saying you would rather not have me make you homemade hamburgers?" Not that he wouldn't wear it if Al bought him one, he would just have to wait until he was a bit skinnier.

"Homemade... I love you!" Alfred said, jumping up. Of course, McDonald hamburgers were good too, but Matthew's were the best! He added stuff that made them taste so good, like... well he didn't know what he added, but they tasted so good! He wrapped his arms around his waist, hugging him from behind.

Leaning back into the embrace, Matthew continued to make the patties before putting them on a frying pan to cook. "I love you too, but if you are really hungry you should probably have something to eat quickly so you won't starve." Hopefully he would be hungry enough that Matt would only eat one and then have time to purge or exercise again.

"But if I save up my hunger, imagine how many burgers I can eat then?" Alfred asked, kissing the side of his neck. He smelt so good after his shower, that he was disappointed that he couldn't have joined.

"I swear you would eat until your stomach exploded if I made enough." Matthew mumbled with a smile. He loved it when Alfred was so close to him, but it didn't help his feelings of not being as nice looking as the girls at the gym. "That's why I'm only making five."

"Your stomach can explode from too much food...? Sweet! I so wanna try that!" Of course not on himself. Because that would be painful. Well, he wasn't actually sure who to try it on, but he definitely wanted to try it!

Shaking his head to hide his small laugh, Matthew just continued getting the rest of their meal ready. If he didn't cut up any vegetables, he knew that Al wouldn't eat any. Plus, he could just eat them and skip the fatty burger.

Letting go, Alfred went to sit back down. "Is there anything you want me to do?" He always asked if he wanted help with household stuff. Matthew usually refused, sometimes getting him to do small things like taking the garbage to the curb.

"It's ok, you can just watch TV. I'll join you in a second." All he had to do was finish getting everything ready. After that, all they were waiting for was the hamburgers themselves. "On second thought, you could promise me you won't make your stomach explode." He knew he wouldn't do it, but it didn't hurt to be prepared.

"You sound just like my mother. 'Don't blow up your stomach. Don't set the cat's tail on fire. Don't cut holes in your fathers pants.'" He said in a shrill voice, laughing when he was finished. "Don't worry, my stomach is made of metal anyway."

"Sure it is." Smiling happily, Matthew couldn't help but feel somewhat jealous. Alfred got to grow up with a mother and a father who both loved him dearly. When he got to meet them, they treated him like their long lost son, which had inwardly made him cry tears of happiness and pain. Why wasn't he allowed to have such a wonderful family?

Alfred waited for the food to be finished. He could smell the tempting aroma coming from the kitchen, so his stomach started growling loudly. Getting up, he went over there to see how much longer, just when Matthew was setting the table.

"I hope you like them." Matthew mumbled quietly, still lost in his thoughts. It wasn't until gave him a strange look that he smiled again and grabbed a bunch of the veggies to eat.

"You're being a bunny again? How can you eat this shit?" Alfred asked before devouring his first burger. "Mmm soooo good." He said with a full mouth.

"It's not shit. It's better for you than all that red meat. At least I made you some instead of trying to force you to be a bunny too" Matthew just laughed as Al pretended to have an orgasm from eating the hamburger. "Plus aren't bunnies cute?" So what if he was fishing for a compliment.

"Of course they are." Alfred smiled, leaning over and kissing him. He continued eating his hamburger, giving the occasional moan. It was just so good! How did he possibly make something this delicious.

"I'm glad you like them but you don't need to have sex with them." Matthew laughed, taking a bite out of a carrot. Well, maybe it would make Al not want to do anything for a while so that he could get thin.

Alfred swallowed his current bite, so fast he almost choked. "Sex with a hamburger? Mattie, we should have sex while eating hamburgers! That would be so sexy, you don't even know!" They would have condiments everywhere, and it would taste sooo good!

"I was being facetious. Plus it would too messy." Not to mention that then he would have to be naked. Maybe he could get Al to let him keep a shirt on at least.

"Even though you're an author, you shouldn't use words no one knows." It was almost like he was speaking French again! Next thing he would be speaking would be some crazy foreign language with clicks and whistles!

Shaking his head while he hid his giggles, Matthew just ate another slice of cucumber. "It's only you who doesn't know them." Even when he was somewhat sad because of his weight, Alfred always knew how to make him happy even if it was by mistake.

Laughing as well, Alfred took another bite of his hamburger. He had slowed down now, since he wasn't starving anymore. "I bet I could find someone else who doesn't know them." He knew some Mexicans that probably didn't know English very well.

Watching Al eat for a second, Matthew waited until his mouth was empty before responding. "We're in America. That wouldn't be too difficult." It was mostly to get his boyfriend riled up, because they both knew the statement wasn't true.

Opening his mouth to argue, Alfred thought about it for a second and shrugged. "Yeah, probably." Why would the school system focus on English when there was so much American history to learn anyways?

Finishing up his meal, Matthew stood up and kissed Al on the cheek to whisper in his ear. "I'm gonna watch TV as you do the dishes."

Eating the remnants of his supper, Alfred nodded. He was happy Matthew was asking him to do something, because he always felt so bad that he could never help out. He stood up and grabbed the plates, putting them in the sink and running the water.

Matthew folded himself in their comfy leather couch and turned the TV back on. It was set on some basketball game, so he just changed it to the guide to start looking for something more entertaining. Maybe a movie would be on or something other than news or gossip shows.


	14. Chapter 14

Alfred woke up to the alarm clock, shutting it off quickly because he hated the noise. He looked over to Matthew, knowing that he usually got up with him. But he was still asleep, so the American left him and started getting ready.

He was about to leave, but wanted to check on him. It was rare that he was _still_ asleep, and he found him with the blankets pulled almost right over his head. "Matt? You ok?" He asked, going to feel his forehead. "Holy shit, you're burning up!"

"Eh?" He mumbled as he woke up. "I'm fine Al, just kinda tired. Maybe I'll just sleep in today..." Not to mention that he felt physically weak. Although he made sure to drink water all the time -especially when he purged- yet after another month of dieting and getting more into exercising, he had been feeling worse from gaining weight instead of losing it as well as just becoming fatigued all the time.

"No Matt, you're sick. I'll get you some medicine." And a cold cloth for his forehead would be good, too, because his temperature was really high, yet he seemed to be shivering. He hadn't seemed too sick yesterday, so it was strange he was this bad today.

Too tired to yell after him that he was fine, Matthew just buried himself deeper into the covers. It really would feel good just to go to sleep, even if he was freezing and felt like he was going to shake to pieces.

Returning with a cloth, Alfred got Matthew on his back so he could put it on him. "Here, I have Advil for you, so take it, ok?" He handed the pills over along with a glass of water, helping him sit up enough to swallow them.

"I don't need it Al. I guess I just got a cold; I'll be fine." He still sat up though and took the glass, sipping at the water. It was nice and helped his stomach not feel so empty. The rest of his body just felt tired and weak and all he wanted to do was go back to sleep. His editor could wait another few days for his manuscript.

"Take them. Do it for me?" All thoughts of going to work were now out of Alfred's head. Normally, Matthew could take care of himself, but he was worried with how sick he was right now. It could even be that fucking pig flu or whatever it was.

Picking the pills out of his boyfriend's hand, Matthew put one in his mouth and swallowed it before doing the same with its twin. "_Now_ I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me. I promise if anything worse happens I'll phone you."

"But I know you won't. Doesn't matter what you say, there is no way you can wrestle me out of that door." Because that is the only way he was leaving, by force. He left the room to grab the phone and call in sick.

Pulling the blanket off their bed, the Canadian wrapped it around his bony figure before walking out to the living room where Alfred was. "I told you I'm fine. I walked all the way here, didn't I? That's all I'm going to be doing today." He didn't need to mention the fact that he almost felt like passing out.

Shaking his head, Alfred spoke into the phone again, talking to his boss. Then he hung up and looked at Matt. "Go back to bed. We both know you're not well, and I have been doing a lot of over time, so it's fine to take a day off."

Wiping the cold sweat off his face, Matthew just mumbled. "You don't have to..." Well, maybe he could help him pass out on the couch to get his energy back.

Alfred took him by the hand, taking Matthew back to the bed. "Alright, just stay in bed and call me if you need anything." He hoped that he wouldn't have to cook, because he wasn't good at it. Well he could just make canned soup.

"I'll be fine..." Matthew mumbled again, falling against the bed. He was just cold and his stomach felt strange. He had been feeling off for a while, but he wasn't too sure why. "Maybe just some Gatorade or something..."

Pulling the covers over him, Alfred made sure no part of his body was hanging out. "Water and apple juice. That is all you're allowed to drink today." That and the soup he was going to make.

"Water please. And sleep." Matthew mumbled, already going to sleep. It was either that or feel nauseous. His mouth had started hurting from purging, but he couldn't tell Alfred that.

Nodding, Alfred went out to fill his bottle with water, letting him fall asleep. As a thought, he also got the thermometer, just in case. It was always a good thing to be sure he wasn't too hot, so that they might need to go to the hospital again.

Matthew was barely awake when Al came back with the water. "Thank you..." He all but whispered, too tired to use any more energy than that. It wasn't fun being sick, but he could tell it was going to stick with him for a while.

"You're welcome." Alfred said, feeling his forehead again. He took the cloth and ran it under cold water again, and put it back on his head to cool it down. "Now get some sleep." It was just the flu, so he should be fine after a few days.

It was already too late though since Matthew had put the water on the side table and had already fallen into a deep sleep. Little did he know that he was going to keep getting sick for the next while, and all because he was trying to keep skinny for the one person that loved him.

.oOo.

Alfred sighed, looking down at Matthew's red nose and cheeks. "I should stay here..." He said, because he never liked leaving him home alone when he was sick. Matthew had been under the weather more and more frequently, and now it was getting to the point where he was sick more often than not.

"You've already missed too much work," Matthew explained, his voice nasally from his stuffed nose. "I don't want both of us unable to make any money. Then how will you buy hamburgers?"

Sighing again, Alfred agreed. He had missed quite a few days within the past few months, not wanting to leave the side of a sick Matthew. But today he didn't look too bad, just had a stuffed nose and coughed a lot. "Alright, I'll keep my cell on me, so call if you need anything."

"I promise." Matthew said as Al kissed his forehead. It felt bad being sick all the time and he could think of just why it was happening although he didn't want to say anything. He had become very skinny now; even more so then all the women Al would look at occasionally. Since he still purged, Matthew's body never got a good enough chance to absorb the nutrients it needed to keep his body healthy. Even his hair was becoming brittle along with his fingernails and everything else. It almost wasn't worth it, but he still felt guilty every time he ate.

Still, if anything he could tell that his boyfriend loved him because he was so willing to take care of him. It was nothing like his father was, and even Francis wasn't allowed to help him when he was feeling sick because of school or his father's threats.

Leaving the house, Alfred took out his cell phone and called his work to tell them he would be a few hours late. He was worried about why Matthew was constantly sick, and why he had lost so much weight. Now he just looked like a stick, with his bones sticking out everywhere. Maybe he had a worm or something. That would make him skinny and sick, but every time he mentioned going to the doctor to Matthew, he always refused. So Al was going to go and talk to one.

He had made an appointment already, so he only had to wait a few minutes before being shown into a white room, where a doctor was waiting.

"Alfred Jones?" The doctor asked, looking at his clipboard. He was told that it wasn't a check up, but more a time for the man to ask him something. Well, either way he was going to get paid and help someone.

"Yes, that's me." Alfred sat down on the chair, not really wanting to sit on the paper-covered bed they had there. It was a small room, so he had to go sideways. "I need to talk about my boyfriend." No need saying the whole friend thing, since he was probably not going to be seeing this doctor again.

Well, that was interesting. Not that he was homophobic, but he was surprised the man was so open about it. "What do you need to talk about?" A small voice in the back of his mind said 'AIDS', but he refused to listen to it. Just because they were gay didn't mean they had it.

"He's always really sick. And really skinny. I think he has a worm." Alfred said, blunt as always. Hopefully the doc could just give him some meds, so Matthew wouldn't need to know that he had gone to the Doctor's behind his back.

"What symptoms other than that does he have?" After all, he wouldn't want to give him medicine to cure something that wasn't there in the first place. There were still other things that could be happening to make him be that way.

Alfred thought for a minute. Other symptoms? "Um, well he hasn't been eating much lately. But that can just be because he has been sick. And he tries to hide the fact that he pukes sometimes, but he has been sick, so it's just because of that. Ya know, normal sick stuff. Oh, and a while ago he was so dehydrated he had to come to the hospital, if that has anything to do with it."

That didn't sound like a worm. Sure some of the symptoms fit, but why would he have to go to the hospital for dehydration? Plus, normal sick people wouldn't want people to know they threw up, but wouldn't be secretive about it. There was something... But it was rare for men to have it. "Do you know if he has had any pain in his mouth or throat from throwing up? Does he have a preoccupation with food or recipes?"

"Not sure about the throat thing, because he probably wouldn't say anything. As for the food thing... why does that matter? I mean, yeah, he buys a lot of dieting cook books and stuff, but what does that have to do with it?" Did worms make people diet or something?

Unsure if he should just say it, the doctor coughed lightly. "Can you bring him here for a visit? I would like to see him before I say anything."

Shaking his head, Alfred looked out the window. "He wouldn't agree to come here, because he doesn't like people worrying about him. He doesn't know I'm here now. With the dehydration thing, he didn't even want to come the hospital and just thought he needed sleep." That was just the kind of person Matthew was.

If anything, that just confirmed his diagnosis. "Well, he needs to see a doctor. Preferably a specialist if you would like me to get you the number of one that is used to treating patients like your... Boyfriend."

Alfred furrowed his eyebrows, confused. "A specialist? Like what? He doesn't... oh God he doesn't have like cancer or something, does he?" Why else would he need a specialist? Unless it was worse than cancer! Oh no, was Mattie gonna die?

"I'm quite sure it's not cancer. I think he is bulimic." Getting one of the binders off the shelves in the room, he leafed through it until he reached the number he was looking for. After he wrote it down on a prescription pad, he handed it over to Alfred. "This is one of the best doctors specialized in treating people with eating disorders. If you want your boyfriend to get better, you need to talk to him."

Almost laughing, Alfred took the paper. "Bulimic? No, you're wrong. Matt can't... he isn't bulimic. That's like where people puke or whatever to get skinny. He wouldn't... he isn't bulimic." He wouldn't do that to himself, he just wouldn't. Matthew was smart, so he wouldn't do something like that to himself. Sure, he always seemed obsessed about his weight... but he would never... do something that drastic. "He isn't bulimic." He said in a quieter voice.

"I'm sorry I was the one to tell you, but if you want to help him get better you are going to have to be a strong role model for him. It is quite possible that he is doing it for a purpose other than to just stay thin." Most people with the disorder, along with anorexia had family problems or other issues in their life. He wasn't sure about all the symptoms, but it was the most likely thing. "At least phone him and make an appointment."

Opening his mouth, Alfred closed it again when he realized he had nothing to say. He looked down at the number and nodded slowly. He could talk to him on the phone... not that Matthew was bulimic. But just to... make sure. "Thank you." He said quietly, still not meeting the doctor's eyes.

"I sincerely hope that Matthew gets better." At least, he was sure that was what Alfred had said his name was. He knew that eating disorders were always very difficult on both the person with them and their friends and family, so he hoped they would be able to get through it relatively unscathed.


	15. Chapter 15

Sitting on the couch, Alfred clutched the paper in one hand, and a phone in the other. Matthew was sound asleep in bed, he had checked on him after work. He didn't look bulimic, of course he had never seen a bulimic person. He wasn't calling to confirm he was bulimic... He was calling to prove to the doc that Matt wasn't.

Slowly he dialled the number under the name of Dr. Beilschmidt. He wasn't sure he could pronounce it, but he tried at least. He put the phone to his ear, hearing the rings.

"Hello, this is Dr. Beilschmidt speaking. How may I help you?" Ludwig answered in a clipped voice. It wasn't the first time he had answered the phone, so he was quite proficient with it now. Although, it would be nice to get a secretary that would be able to work up to his standards.

"Oh, uh hi. My name is Alfred. You... are the specialist, right?" Alfred didn't know why he even bothered asking, because it said so right on the card, but he figured he should make sure anyway. He wasn't too sure what was going to happen after this, but he hoped he could get this over with on the phone and get back to their normal life.

"Yes I am a specialist, not _the_." Already he was rubbing his temples with his free hand. He could help people with problems, but normal people still gave him his own. "Are you phoning to schedule an appointment?"

Looking in the direction of their room, Alfred bit his lip. "Can't we just do this over the phone?" He was sure Matthew couldn't hear him talking, if he woke up, so the phone should be fine.

Switching the phone to the other ear as he opened up his schedule, Ludwig replied. "A meeting in person would be the best option, preferably with the person you are phoning for." It was extremely rare for a person with an eating disorder to phone in for themselves, so he could be quite certain it wasn't Alfred with it.

Sighing, the American put his head down. "He... would it be alright if it was just you and me? I don't think he... um the doctor gave me your number and told me to phone. But I don't think he is... well ya know." Alfred wanted to get across that Matthew _wasn't_ bulimic, but didn't know how to do that.

"I need to meet said person to be able to determine if it is an eating disorder or if it is something else." It only took a second for the German to look through his planner. "I had a cancellation in two days at three-ten if that will work for you and the person in question."

"I will go, just to talk. He doesn't know that I am, ah, talking to you, so if it could just be us, that would be great." He couldn't accuse Matthew of being bulimic when he didn't actually think he was! What would that do to his self confidence?

Nodding to himself, Ludwig responded. "Understood. May I have your full name to schedule you in?" It would be a waste of his time, but it was still business. If he helped his 'friend' get better, than he would have completed his job.

"Alfred F. Jones." Alfred put the time and date in his cell phone, reminding himself to look up where it was he had to go later. He was just making sure. He wouldn't need it, because Matt would never be bulimic. He just wouldn't.

Writing the man's name down, Ludwig said. "I will see you here then. Good day."

Waking up in the other room, Matthew thought he could hear Al sigh deeply. "Al?" He yelled out, sneezing after he did.

"Hey, I'm back from work." Alfred walked into the room, making sure to not say anything about the hospital or the doc. He only had to wait three days for this to clear up, so he could be sure there was nothing wrong with Matthew. He was healthy, besides being sick, and he ate fine.

"I missed you." He said quietly, holding his hand out. Matthew hated being sick, since he couldn't have sex with Al when he was.

Biting his lip, Alfred took the hand and kissed it. Then he remembered something the doctor had said. "How is your, uh, throat?" It was a valid question, since he was sick. It wasn't like he was trying to find out if he constantly made himself throw up or anything.

Squeezing Alfred's hand, Matthew just shrugged. "It's kinda sore, but it's probably just because I'm sick. Why?" It was a bit strange that he was so concerned, but it was endearing.

Taking a breath, Alfred forced himself to smile. This didn't mean anything. "Oh, just wondering cause when I get sick, my throat is always really sore. I could get you cold water, that always seems to help me."

"That would be nice. I love you Al. You always care so much about me and I never deserve it..." Especially right now. Being sick so often, Al didn't let him cook or clean or do anything he was used to doing.

"Don't say that. You deserve it, because I love you. I really, really love you Matthew. You know that, right?" He used his full name, wanting him to know he was serious.

Feeling tears bead in the corners of his eyes despite feeling happy, Matthew just smiled. "I do. Thank you." What else could he say? Having someone love him so much made him feel unworthy.

.oOo.

Steeling himself for what was about to happen, Alfred walked through the plain wooden door. Once again, he had told Matthew he was at work. It didn't feel good lying to him, but in the long run this was for his own good. Not that he was bulimic, of course.

Seeing a man walk though the entrance to his office, Ludwig coughed experimentally as he clasped his hands on his desk. "Mr. Jones I presume?" He was only a minute late, but it was still enough to have his eyebrow twitching slightly. His office ran like clockwork, and when someone interrupted its rhythm it wasn't appreciated.

"Yes." Alfred gave a smile, trying hard to understand the thick German accent. He sat down on the comfy chair in front of the desk, thinking it would be a good idea not to put his feet up. "And you were... I can't pronounce your name."

"Beilschmidt. Dr. Beilschmidt." Ludwig said again, glad that he wasn't the patient. Sure he was paid to talk to people, but they were usually quieter and more reserved since that was the personality trait that would most often develop an eating disorder. "What would you like to discuss?"

"My boyfriend." He figured that this guy was smart, and he would figure it out eventually, so why not just tell him? "Matthew. He has been sick lately, so I went to a doctor and he told me to come to you. Oh, and the other day he said his throat was sore, but he was sick, so that's probably why." Of course it was just because he was sick.

"Hmm." Ludwig mumbled something in German to himself as he looked through one of his files. "I am not able to say if he has an eating disorder without meeting him, but are there any other symptoms or strange things you have noticed him doing? Maybe excessive exercise or going to the bathroom throughout the day? Or maybe he doesn't eat nearly enough to sustain a human? Is he a compulsive eater?"

Thinking, Alfred couldn't seem to remember all the things he had planned on telling him. "Well he recently started going to the gym with me. And he usually doesn't eat much. And it almost seems... like his mood depends on his weight. I mean, usually he is perfect, but then he loses a few pounds and becomes happy, and when he goes back to what he was at before, he goes into a depression. He tries to hide it." Was this good enough?

Making a few notes on a sheet of paper, Ludwig just nodded. "Very well. As for his eating habits, would you say it is drastically less than normal or as if he was constantly dieting?" Now that he had ruled out one disorder, it was a fine line between the other two. It didn't seem as if Alfred was too sure if he was throwing up or not, since he just blamed the sore throat on sickness which it might as well be.

"Usually he sticks to his diets really closely. But if he cheats on his diet, he sort of doesn't stop eating completely." Of course that was never when Alfred was home. But he found wrappers, and food missing, so he knew. He always knew.

"Right." More notes were written meticulously on the page. "Was Matthew ever abused as a child or raped? Usually such things contribute to a person developing such a disorder." Ninety percent of all cases in the field were because of past abuse or rape victims. Either that or they had other traumatic experiences in their lives that made them feel as if the only thing they could control was their weight.

Eyes opening wide, Alfred clutched the arms of the chair. "Raped? What do you mean? Of course he wasn't raped, or else he would have told me!" He couldn't have been raped! Why would a guy who was raped become gay?

Putting down his pen, Ludwig looked him in the eyes. "I'm not saying that he was. All I am simply asking is if you know if he has ever been raped or abused before." His eyes were cool and calculating, urging the loud American to calm down.

Taking a deep breath, Alfred tried to calm down. "Um, well he never really talks about his past... He lived in Canada, that's all I know." Francis would probably know more. If he needed to find out, he could always go to him and force him to tell what Matthew's past was like.

Picking the pen up again, Dr. Beilschmidt made another few lines of notes before putting it down along with his reading glasses. "It seems that we have reached an impasse with the amount of information that you know. Unless there is anything else you need to tell me, I think it would be best to arrange a meeting with Matthew this time."

"But what if he isn't bulimic! I can't just accuse him of being one if I'm not sure! What if he isn't? What would I do then?" Matthew would think he suspected him of hurting himself! That would be terrible, with his low self esteem and everything!

"Mr. Jones, please calm yourself. I cannot be certain that he is anything without first meeting him." A thought came to Ludwig's mind. He rarely did it, but the man seemed so apprehensive... "Would you like to hold a meeting some where other than my office? Perhaps in a coffee shop or a home visit?" He didn't have very many clients right now, plus he didn't want either of the two men having strained emotions.

Thinking it over, Alfred nodded. It would probably be best, or else Matthew would feel intimidated. But... he would still have to talk to him, confront him about it. That might just be the most difficult conversation of his life.

Nodding in response, Ludwig placed his glasses back on and looked through his schedule. "I have a few days open. What would work the best for you?"

"Friday maybe? When I get back from work." Maybe... he wouldn't need to tell Matthew until the meeting! Because then he wouldn't lie or try to run away or anything. Well, he still might, but with the doc there, he would be less likely to.

Looking at that day, Ludwig commented. "I am free from four to five thirty. Will that be satisfactory?" As with all of his clients he had to keep himself from sympathizing too much with the man. Although it was tough to find out that someone in your family had an eating disorder, he couldn't let their pain distract him.

"Yeah, perfect. Here is our address." He quickly wrote it down, handing it over to the blond man. He was starting to worry what Matthew's reaction would be on Friday. Hopefully he wouldn't end up hating him, but it was for his own good, really.

Taking the slip of paper, Ludwig just nodded again. "I will see you then. As it stands our meeting is currently over."


	16. Chapter 16

Alfred found himself pacing. It was Friday, and the doc was sure to be here any minute. Matthew wasn't sick today, so he was stuck talking to him, trying not to mention food or weight or his past.

"What's up?" Matthew asked from the kitchen. Alfred had seemed off for the last few days, so he figured he would make him more hamburgers to cheer him up. There was no reason as far as he knew to be upset, because of all the exercising and running he had been doing.

He stopped walking, and went over to Matthew. "Nothing's up. Just want to make sure you're feeling fine is all." Alfred was happy he wasn't sick today, but he just couldn't stop thinking about what was going to happen when the doc got here.

Laughing lightly to dismiss the anxious air, Matthew just shook his head. "I'm not sick anymore, of course I feel fine." Sure he wasn't at the top of his game, but he was skinnier and felt great.

Hugging the lighter blond, Alfred gave a smile. The door bell rang, and he almost jumped, knowing who it was. "I can get it." He left the kitchen, going to the front door and opening it to find the large German. "Hi, thanks for coming."

"It is not a problem." Ludwig replied with a nod. "Is Matthew home?" He asked, not sure if the man in the kitchen was him. It seemed the most plausible, but he didn't want to assume anything.

Alfred nodded, looking behind him. "Matt, we, um... have a visitor. Come in the living room please." He gestured for Ludwig to follow him, going to sit down on a couch. He bit his lip, not sure how this was going to go, but hoping for the best.

Raising an eyebrow, Matthew waited a few seconds for the food to be ready before covering it and turning it down. "Who is this? Is he a new friend?" If so, couldn't Al tell them when they had supper normally? He figured he could try and give the man a hamburger, but with how much he made, how much Al ate and the fact the man didn't look too interested in the food made him reconsider.

"Kinda... Matt, this is Doct... um I mean Ludwig." If he said doctor, that would set Matthew's radar off in a second. He patted the seat beside him, wanting him to sit there so he could comfort him if need be. "Remember, I love you."

Even though it was mean to reassure him, Alfred's reaffirmation of his love just made Matthew even more nervous. Plus it didn't take much for him to realize he almost said 'doctor'. Was he trying to find out why he kept getting sick? Still he sat down beside him, holding out his hand.

Ludwig just stayed silent, wanting Alfred to tell his boyfriend just what was going on. It wasn't his place to say anything, though the American should have at least mentioned his visit before hand.

Holding his hand, Alfred looked at Matthew, ignoring the doctor for a moment. "Um..." He wasn't sure how he was going to do this, so he figured he would do it like he did everything. Bluntly. "Are you bulimic?"

As if something inside him snapped, every nerve in Matthew's body told him to yell at Alfred how he didn't understand and then run away. Instead, he just laughed weakly, trying not to show how freaked out he was. "Haha, what are you talking about?" Rubbing the back of his neck, where their hands were still connected was burning a path of anger and shame through the Canadian.

Taking a breath, Alfred clutched his hand. "Look, Ludwig is a specialist. He can help you... you just need to tell me." Because there was almost no doubt in his mind anymore that Matthew was bulimic. The past few days had confirmed it, especially when he saw small bruises on his fingers from his teeth.

"I don't have a problem, ok? It isn't abnormal for people to diet or want to be skinny!" Matthew whispered, pulling his hand away. His whole demeanour changed completely; his emotions shutting down as his face became a cold facade.

"Matt come on, don't make this harder than it has to be. I'm not mad, alright?" He looked over to Ludwig for help, not sure what he should do. This was just so difficult! Matthew obviously wouldn't want to admit that he was, but if he didn't admit it, he couldn't be helped.

Standing up, Matthew mumbled. "If you aren't mad then why are you doing this? Do you just put up with me and pretend to love me because you think you will make it worse if you don't? There. Is. Nothing. Wrong. I'm skinny because I want to be; just like all the girls you like to look at."

Mouth gaping, Alfred couldn't believe what Matt had just said. He didn't think he had ever heard him talk like that before! And why did he say he likes looking at girls? Why would he possibly change from girls to guys just for him if he didn't love him?

Ludwig cleared his throat, bringing the attention to himself. This was getting out of hand. "Matthew, I am guessing you were raised by your father. Perhaps your mother was dead, or perhaps she just left, but he blamed you for it, didn't he?" He took a breath, continuing. "He blamed you for a lot of things. You believed him, thinking it was always your fault. So much so that now, if you eat, you feel guilt, like if a normal person stole a purse, correct?"

Stopping himself, Matthew looked over at the obviously German man. It only took a few seconds before he started to physically shake and he was on the ground, his face buried in his hands. Tears poured from his eyes like a faucet as his whole body shook with his sobs that he tried to hold back. "H-H-H-How?" He stuttered, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak.

"Many bulimics come from abusive backgrounds. When you first saw me, a quite large man you don't know, you seemed slightly afraid, so I assumed your father hurt you. Because you were blamed for your mother's actions, you most likely thought something along the lines of 'women are undependable' which is why you are gay." Ludwig said without batting an eye. Now that Matthew had opened up, it would be easier to help him, so despite the crying, this was a good development.

Seeing his boyfriend on the ground, Alfred got off the couch and put an arm around his shaking shoulder. He tried getting him back up to the couch, but gave up and stayed on the floor with him. "Don't cry, Matt, it's alright."

Matthew had half a mind to tell the man to shut up and that he didn't know anything, but with it all true he couldn't. Now Alfred would know about his childhood, no matter just how much he tried to hide it and cover it up with smiles and vague promises. "W-Why?" He asked next, wanting to know just what he was getting at; dissecting his personal life without seeming to care. How was it that the people he called friends would never guess, but a man he just met hit nail after nail on the head.

"Because I can help you, but you need to want help." Ludwig said simply. It was really a good thing that Matthew had someone who loved him so much, because that would help his recovery. But it was still a long way away. "Tell us about your past." That seemed to be the part that was hurting him the most.

Shaking his head, Matthew tried to ignore the fact that Al was holding him and tried to wallow in his pain. How dare he make him feel so terrible? "I don't w-want to... I c-can't..." Matthew stuttered; still having a hard time speaking.

Alfred held him closer, trying to make him feel better. Well, this was what the doctor wanted, so he figured he should play along as well. "Come on, Matt. Tell us. Please?" If he knew what had happened, he could help him feel better. Obviously, the scars from back then weren't healed.

His whole body shaking, Matthew knew he should feel embarrassed right now, but he couldn't bring himself to feel so. Here he was, sobbing like a child with his boyfriend comforting him in front of a man that didn't seem to like how emotional he was being. "W-What will it do? Nothing w-will change... Nothing ever changed..."

"But it _will_ change. If you tell me, I can help you feel better." Damn, this was turning out to be a fucking Intervention. But, besides that this wasn't about drugs, it pretty much _was_ an intervention, to get him to stop throwing up.

"Don't you realize just how fucking hard it is?" Matthew asked coldly, still sobbing into his arms. He had removed his glasses a while ago so that he could freely wipe his face off. "All my life... All my life I was never loved, so when you felt that way about me, I couldn't let you go."

Alfred moved so he was in front of him, taking his face in both hands and wiping the moisture away. "You don't have to let me go. I love you, and you love me. Be as selfish as you want, and take as much love as I can give, alright? Tell me... tell me what it was like, back then."

"I can't though... It's... It's j-just too hard." Holding back all his fears and insecurities so long, even to Francis, made it difficult for them to just come out. Matthew desperately wanted to hide in their room and cry, but he knew he couldn't. Alfred had gotten Ludwig to come here to talk to him, so he would just have to talk to him about something other than his past. After all, he felt bad about lying and hiding the truth about his past for so long that he didn't feel quite up to telling Alfred everything just yet. He didn't want him to worry any more than he was.

Plus, if he was alone with the German man, then he could tell him he was right about everything except for the fact that he had bulimia. Sure he threw up, but it wasn't a problem. Nothing had been happening to him except getting sick like he normally would and the bonus of being thin. He was positive that nothing was wrong with him. This was Matthew's thing to deal with, and his alone.

Biting his lip, Alfred decided that if Matthew had to go through all this pain just telling him, then he didn't need to know about his past right now. He hated seeing him cry like this, and feeling helpless to do anything. Why was the most important thing in his life the one thing he had no control over? "Alright, it's ok, Matt. But... you have to let us help you with the bulimia. I mean, this is serious. Right, doc?"

"Yes, you will get more and more sick, and your throat will start to deteriorate from the stomach acids." Ludwig leaned forward in his chair, folding his hands in his lap. "This will eventually kill you."

Pushing himself away from Alfred, Matthew stood up and wiped his face off before pacing. "Nothing is wrong w-with me! People throw up all the time and they don't die! Why would I be any different? It's my life and I'll do what I want with it."

"People throw up, but not every day. I expect that you do so after every time you eat, don't you?" Ludwig said, raising an eyebrow. Some patients only throw up every once in a while, but it seemed that Matthew did so much more often.

Alfred let out a surprised sound at the same time that Ludwig had spoken. "Matt, how can you say that? It may be your life, but... how would you feel if I died?" He couldn't even imagine what would happen if Matthew died...

"It's my life! It shouldn't matter to anyone but myself if I die anyways!" Close to tears again, Matthew bit down on his lip. Already he was being pressured by both Ludwig and Alfred to talk about it, but he didn't feel like there was much more than his past to talk about. And it wasn't like he was going to do so now.

"Dammit, Matt! I swear to god that if you die because of this, I will take my own fucking life, and then it will be your fault that I'm dead!" Alfred yelled, completely unsure why he was doing it. All this talk of death had his mind going to where he didn't want it to go.

Breaking down for the second time, Matthew fell onto the couch and started hiccoughing into his arms. "W-Why c-can't I e-e-ever be ha-happy?" He moaned pathetically, too emotionally wrecked to care about just how much he was acting like a spoilt kid.

Immediately regretting his rage, Alfred glanced to Ludwig to find him passively watching the events. He turned back to Matthew's crying face, sitting beside him. He didn't touch him though, after all he was the one that had just yelled at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I thought you were happy. I thought our relationship was enough for you. I guess it wasn't, though." If the relationship was enough, then he wouldn't need to throw up, would he?

Realizing his mistake, Matthew backtracked. "T-That's not wh-wh-what I meant! God, I o-only ever w-want-ted you to b-be happy!" It was no wonder that if he couldn't stay happy himself, that he couldn't make Alfred happy as well.

"Me to be happy? What about you? Aren't you gonna be happy?" Alfred put his head in his hands, not even sure what they were doing now. This wasn't fucking couples therapy, this was to help Matthew. So far, it was just making him cry.

Calming himself down, Matthew forced himself to grab Alfred's face to look at him. "I want... I want you to be happy so I can be happy. When you smile, it makes me smile. Please don't forget that." Tears were still pouring down his face and he could care less that Ludwig was still there.

Giving a small smile, Alfred closed his eyes so he could feel the hands on his face. "Well, if you want me to be happy... stop doing this to yourself."

"But..." Matthew hesitated, his hand dropping. "Then... Then I'll get fat..." _And you won't want to look at me anymore; you'll feel disgusted to be my boyfriend and you will run away with one of the girls from the gym..._

It was now Alfred's turn to take Matthew's face. "Ok, one, you won't get fat. Two, I would love you even if you were. It's you I love, not your body." Even if he was fat, he would still be the same person, so it didn't matter.

"How can you say that?" Matthew asked quietly, still wiping away tears. He didn't want to re-mention the women anymore, but they were still front and foremost in his mind. It was one of the reasons he knew he had to stay thin.

"I can say it because it's true." He took Matthew in his arms, knowing he was bad with words, so trying to convey his feelings through actions. "Look, before you, I was straight. Do you really think, after changing my sexual orientation, I would be able to look at anyone else?"

Knowing that deep down in his heart he knew that it wasn't the truth and that there were much better people who would deserve him, Matthew kept it to himself. Instead, he just shook his head with a fake smile. "But how is it a problem? I won't die, and I'm just making sure to stay thin. I could use laxatives instead..."

For the first time in a while, Ludwig spoke up. "Laxatives ruin your digestive tract, and will also kill you." He didn't mention the fact that that way was even less effective, because he didn't want Matthew to think that either way was right.

Alfred glanced at him, and looked back to Matthew. "You never have energy, you are sick all the time, and you said your throat hurt. It's not good for you at all." He couldn't let his lover throw up to make himself skinnier.

Narrowing his eyes, Matthew shuffled out of the embrace. Why didn't they get it? "Then I can just go on a restrictive diet and if I binge I'll only throw up then. Everyone is happy and I won't rot my throat or become obese."

"You don't get it. Your body needs food, Matt. That's why we eat." How long had he been doing this? Matthew must have been doing it for a while, because when Alfred met him, he was also fairly skinny. Nothing like what he was now, of course, with his bones sticking out everywhere. How much damage had he done already?

"I've never stopped myself from eating. I'm just going to make sure I don't get fat. If I took vitamins I'd be ok." He added, still not sure just why they were so insistent about it. It was his life and his body and he was allowed to do what he wanted with both. At least he wasn't shooting up every day or selling himself without Al knowing.

* * *

Long intervention is long. It will continue in the next chapter.


	17. Chapter 17

Truthfully, Ludwig didn't know why he was here right now. He could help Matthew, but only after he admitted he had a problem. But until that happened, it was up to Alfred to get him to that point. Right now, he was only occasionally adding to the conversation.

Alfred stood up and walked to the window, looking out. "You're supposed to be smart, aren't you? I mean seriously, you need more than vitamins. And eating before you throw it all up doesn't count as eating." Why did he do this to himself?

"I don't always throw up. And I am smart; I'm doing this so that you won't lose interest in me." Like my father did... "I-I never deserved being with you so I had to try to be something that others weren't."

"...Lose interest... Matt, what the fuck is wrong with you? How could I lose interest? I love you, and that has nothing to do with your body! And don't you think it should be up to me who deserves being with me or not?" What the hell was he saying? It almost seemed like Matthew was doing this... all for him? Alfred took a breath. It couldn't be true, could it? He was hurting himself so that Al wouldn't dump him?

"You can say that now, but if I was fat when I met you, you wouldn't even have given me a second glance. If I get fat now, you will only pretend to love me." Matthew said quietly, not wanting to argue.

Giving a large sigh, he hung his head. The only way they would get off his case would be for him to 'admit' he had a problem. "Fine... I'm bulimic and need help."

Because he said that, Alfred could let slip what he had said before. Finally, he admitted it! Now the healing could start! "Good. So, ah, what do we do now, doc?" Because he was the expert, after all.

"Well, I think Matthew should see me every week, probably twice or even three times." Ludwig said ,even though he could tell that the boy didn't really mean what he said. But, with help, he might get better. "You also need to be with him through this process."

As Alfred nodded enthusiastically, Matthew kept his head bowed. He still believed he was fine, but said that so maybe Alfred would feel better. And if Alfred felt better, so would he.

Though, they could either let him go or stop talking as if he wasn't even there. He didn't want to have to talk with Ludwig so much because it would only cost them money and nothing would happen from it. Matthew would still diet and occasionally purge, but now it was going to be a struggle against Alfred to do so.

Finally, Ludwig had to go. Alfred smiled and hugged Matthew. "We will work through this together, and it will be great, you'll see." Even if he still wanted to know more about his past, he knew how hard it was for him to talk about it, so he would let it go for now.

Standing still in the embrace, Matthew pushed himself away before grabbing his jacket. "I'll be back. Please eat dinner without me." Pulling on his shoes next he went to the door.

"Wait... where are you going?" Alfred went to the door as well, taking his jacket out. He wasn't about to let Matthew leave by himself. What if he puked? He needed to make sure that he didn't.

"I'm just going for a run. I'll be back." When he would be back was the thing he didn't know, along with where he was going to end up. All he knew is that he needed to get away from Alfred and their house for a while and just stop thinking about everything.

Pulling on his own jacket, Alfred started to look for his shoes. "Alright, I'll come with you." A run would be nice, the weather wasn't too cold. He could wait to eat, anyways. Sure, the food smelt good, but Matthew was more important than food.

"You don't have too; I'm not a child." He didn't want to make any promises he wouldn't be able to keep in the long run. Matthew was quite sure he wasn't going to throw up, but Alfred didn't seem to think that. "I need to clear my head. I won't throw up when I'm running."

Not sure what he should do, Alfred looked down and took off his jacket. "Be back in ten minutes." Because he needed to make sure he was alright. It wasn't that he didn't trust Matthew, it was just that he was worried about him.

"I can't promise that." Matthew mumbled before closing the door behind him. Immediately he started running, fighting back the tears that threatened to stream from his face again. He didn't want Al to worry, but Matthew felt that now that he thought he was sick, he was starting to baby him. He was still the same person and didn't need him to watch his every move.

Leaning against the closed door, Alfred fell down it to sit on the floor. Why couldn't he just agree to be back in ten minutes? Then he wouldn't have to worry about him like this. A few minutes ago he had thought everything would turn out alright. Matthew would get better, and he would tell him about his past, so that he could make him feel better. But now... What was going to happen?

Running in a random direction, Matthew continued to think. There was a very small chance that if he went home that Alfred would pretend if this never happened. If anything, he would be more upset about how flippant he was. Still... There was always an alternative... It might be more immature but then he wouldn't have Alfred hovering around him and he could calm down.

Changing his course, Matthew started off in the direction of Francis' and Arthur's loft. Hopefully they would have nothing planned tonight and they would let him sleep on the couch. It would make him feel bad to say it, but maybe if he said the two of them had a fight they wouldn't ask any other questions.

Francis opened the door, seeing a slightly sweaty Matthew. "_Bonjour_. What is wrong?" He couldn't explain it, but he looked... a little off. It wasn't that his eyes were red or anything, but the Frenchman could still tell something was up.

"C-Can I stay here tonight?" Matthew panted, still breathing hard. He didn't want to lie, but it seemed immanent that he would have to. Taking off his jacket he waited for Francis to invite him in before also taking his shoes off.

"Of course, but why?" Francis was briefly reminded of the days that Matthew would show up at his house, much like tonight, asking to sleep on the couch, usually with bruises on his face. This time, he didn't look physically hurt, and he really didn't think Alfred would do that, but still...

Pausing for a moment, Matthew just shrugged. "Just... I just thought that we haven't had much time together so I thought we could hang out for the night."

Shrugging, Francis allowed it, even when he knew it wasn't true. He knew from experience that if Matthew didn't want to tell you something, he wouldn't. "Arthur, Matthew is staying with us tonight." He called out to the living room.

"Hey Arthur." Matthew said timidly, still sweating and feeling gross. He was glad Francis wasn't asking any more questions, just like when they were younger. It was like a sanctuary since Francis wouldn't be asking him about his past because he knew, and he wouldn't be watching him constantly. Arthur would probably wonder, but Francis would just keep his secret.

"I was just making dinner, if you haven't eaten yet." Francis said, going back into the kitchen. It wouldn't be a problem to make some more, and it wasn't like Matthew ate much anyway. Arthur was doing some embroidery, so he was probably engrossed in that.

Looking up from his needlework, Arthur was a bit surprised to see Matthew but wasn't going to say anything about it.

"That's ok, I'm not hungry. I ate as I made dinner." Matthew felt bad about lying, but when it mattered he could come clean.

Nodding, Francis continued cooking. "How are you feeling, anyway? Better since you left the hospital?" He asked, raising his voice slightly to be heard in the other room. He had worried about him, but not as much as usual, since Alfred was there to take care of him.

"Much better. I've been drinking a lot of water." What he wasn't going to say was that it was because of Alfred. "What are you making?"

"Chicken Cord en Bleu. What did you have?" He was surprised how skinny he looked since the last time he had seen him, but figured that was because of stress. He knew that moving in with someone was difficult for the first while.

Leaning against the counter Matthew smiled lightly. "Hamburgers but I ate some veggies." He could tell that Francis was a bit worried about him, but he couldn't stop him.

Nodding, Francis didn't look up from the food. "Well, that is healthy for you, but you have to eat other things, as well." Even vegetarians had some sort of protein. But he wasn't going to lecture him, because that wasn't really his place now. It was more Alfred's job to look after him.

"I do every once in a while. It's just I'm on a diet to keep me healthy and everything." Since Francis has seen him throw up before, it wouldn't be the best to make him more worried.

"Alright." He didn't want to pry, and it didn't matter if he was on a diet. Most diets out there were healthy, so it was fine. "How is your book coming along? I can't wait to read it when you finish." When they were younger, Francis would make Matthew let him read the stories he always wrote. He was the only one that read them.

"It could be better but my editor says it's really good. We've been planning on selling maybe a few hundred..." He always was embarrassed to talk about his books, but all his friends seemed to like them. Matthew kept from talking about Alfred on purpose, not wanting to bring it up.

Francis was about to reply, but the phone interrupted him. "I'll be right back. Can you watch this please?" He picked up the phone, and heard heavy breathing. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's me." Alfred said on the other line. He was outside, and had just finished a quick jog around the neighbourhood to find Matthew. "Is Matt there?"

"Yes, he is. Would you like to talk to him?" Francis asked, ready to hand the phone over.

Shaking his head, Matthew hoped that Francis would obey his wish. He really couldn't handle talking to Al right now, and he had no idea just how awkward it would be going back home. "Please don't."

Francis lifted an eyebrow, but kept the phone in his hand.

"No, it's fine. Um, if I could come over there, and pick him up, that would be great." Alfred said, starting off in the direction of their house. He needed to talk to Matthew, to ask him why he didn't come home, and why he was avoiding him.

Hanging up the phone, Francis looked over at his childhood friend. "He's coming over here." He said simply. "Did you two have a fight? Why don't you want to talk to him?" It was strange for Matthew to act this way. Usually he would want to make up as soon as possible.

"Uh..." Swearing under his breath, Matthew looked around anxiously. "Not... Not exactly... Well, I guess we did." He admitted, using it to his advantage. "That's why I don't want to see him for a little bit. I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away, I just didn't want you to worry."

Understanding, Francis gave a small nod. It wasn't his place to criticize other's relationships, especially when he and Arthur had a fight just about every day. "But, he is already on his way. Perhaps you can make up now?"

Freaking out a little bit, Matthew continued to looked around. "No... I don't think that would be for the best... Maybe I'll just go back home or somewhere..." Matthew really couldn't handle seeing Alfred again so soon, not to mention he would say something about how he was 'sick'.

"When he comes here, I'm going to tell him where you are. I don't like lying to friends." He could keep a secret, but lying was something he never liked doing. Why didn't Matthew want to talk to him? After the fight they had right before he had to go to the hospital, making up with Alfred was the only thing the Canadian could think of.

"Please don't!" Matthew pleaded, pouting. "I... I can't talk to him yet. Just tell him I went running again. Please Francis!"

Sighing, Francis looked at his pleading face. "Fine. But get out of here now and make sure I see you running so I'm not really lying." He could never truly say no to Matthew, since he was his oldest friend. He always cared about him so much.

"Thank you so much Francis. You were always the closest person to me." Giving him a large hug, Matthew went back to the door and quickly put his jacket and shoes on. "I promise to phone you when I am home."

Francis smiled, helping put his jacket on. "Promise me that you will make up with your boyfriend soon." Because really, Alfred was really good for Matthew, even if he was sometimes insensitive and dense. "And remember, running."

Smiling placidly, Matthew nodded slowly. "I... I will..." Opening the door, he made sure Alfred wasn't there before saying a quick goodbye to Arthur as he ran out. He knew that eventually he would have to talk to Alfred, but the longer it was, the more time he could tell him that he wasn't sick.

Alfred showed up a few minutes after Matthew had left. When Francis told him that he was no longer there, he swore under his breath. Why was he doing this? He didn't want to see him? He left to go back home, since there was no way of knowing where he was if the Canadian was trying to hide.

Running faster than he did going to Francis' house, Matthew was home in record time. Shedding his shoes, jacket and the rest of his clothes as soon as he got in, he immediately went to have a shower. He felt all gross, and it would give him more time to think before Alfred would come home and try and get into the locked bathroom.

Opening the front door, Alfred heard the shower. Quickly, he ran up the steps, grabbing the handle of the bathroom door, but it was locked. "Matt! Matthew, let me in! Don't do this, let me in!" He was in the bathroom! He could have thrown up again!

"I'm not doing anything." Matthew yelled over the roar of the shower. Why would he when Alfred would just get more upset with him? All he wanted was for the people in his life to accept him, and Al didn't seem to like him right now. Sure he wanted to help, but there was nothing to help him with.

"Just let me in!" He wanted to see him, just to make sure. He stopped pounding on the door, leaning against it. Why was Matthew pushing him away? It didn't make sense. He had admitted that he needed help, didn't he? So what was the point of all this running around?

Hurriedly finishing his shower, Matthew shut the water off and put a towel around his waist. Unlocking the door, he just stared blankly at Alfred, feeling as if he was about to burst into tears again if he showed any emotion. "I'm back and I didn't throw up. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Alfred pulled Matthew into a tight hug, not caring as his clothes got wet. "Don't scare me like that again." He said into the sweet-smelling shoulder. Damn, he wasn't sure what he would do if this went on much longer, it was taking sure a tole. But if it was for Matt, he could do it.

Hugging him back lightly, Matthew was secretly glad Alfred had been worrying about him. That meant that maybe he was truthful, saying his weight didn't matter. Though it was still hard to not think about it. "Thank you." He mumbled, still not quite ready to forgive him. Matthew knew it was immature, but if he wasn't sick, why was Alfred acting like this? They would think that he would be able to tell himself if he was dying or not.

"What are you saying thank you for?" Alfred asked, lifting his head so he could look at Matthew. His hair was still wet, and the American wanted to run his fingers through it, pulling him into a kiss. He didn't, though, because this moment seemed too... emotional.

"For caring." It was almost too much than what he could handle, but Matthew was thankful for it even if it was making it harder for him to remember that nothing was wrong with him. Everything he did was for a purpose and Matt's purpose was to make the people in his life happy.

Giving a small laugh, Alfred kissed him on the lips, quickly. "Idiot. Of course I care. I love you, don't I?" He pulled away, grabbing Matthew by the hand. "Come on, we should go to bed. You look tired." It wasn't that late, but it was obvious that the day's events had taken a tole on both of them.

"I think... I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight." Matthew mumbled, standing still while looking at the ground. With everything that happened today he didn't want Al to think he was ok with being sick. He didn't have bulimia and he wasn't going to kill himself.

Stopping and looking back, Alfred couldn't believe it. "What? Look, I'm not mad at you for leaving or anything. Or... are you mad at _me_ for calling Ludwig?" He had hoped that since Matthew had said that he needed help, that meant he wasn't mad at him. But maybe he was wrong?

"I... I'm not mad..." Per say, but Alfred didn't need to know that right now. "I'm just not feeling well I guess..."

"Are you sick again? You probably are, because now you have a weak immune system. Damn, this is why bulimia is bad." Well, one of the many reasons that it's bad, really. He felt Matthew's forehead, but it didn't feel too hot.

Swatting the hand away lightly, Matthew wanted to tell him he wasn't sick, but it would be better if he thought he was. "I'm not feeling well mentally..." He said which was the truth. Matthew didn't want Al to try and get him to talk about his family or anything else they talked about tonight.

Scrunching his eyebrows in confusion, Alfred looked down at his hand that had been hit away. "Do... Do you want me to move out?" He had seemed so happy when he had moved in, but maybe now it was too much for him. But if they didn't live together, then how was he supposed to make sure Matthew didn't throw up? Nothing made sense anymore.

Looking at Alfred's hurt face, Matthew had a hard time sticking to his decision. "No! It's just... I need time to think... I'm sorry..."

Sighing, Alfred nodded. He wasn't sure why he couldn't think when they were in the same bed, but whatever. "Fine, go to bed. I'll take the couch." Before leaving, though, he gave Matthew a goodnight kiss, lingering for a second.

"Thank you," he whispered again, feeling terrible. But, it was to help both of them realize that nothing was wrong. He was just emotional from talking about his childhood. Making his way to their bed, he curled up naked under the covers and stayed like that for most of the night; half awake but deaf to the world except his confusing thoughts.

Alfred couldn't sleep. It wasn't that he was sleeping on the couch, because it was fairly comfortable. It was mostly because he was thinking about what to do about Matthew. It didn't seem like he actually thought he had a problem, which was just insane. Was this going to ruin their relationship?

As if time slowed to a crawl, Matthew watched the sun slowly rise as he got up. There was no way he would sleep now if he had barely slept all night. Going to the kitchen he could see Alfred laying on the couch still asleep.

Alfred had closed his eyes, trying to get some sleep. It was annoying not being able to sleep, because he was actually tired. But his mind wouldn't let him, running with ideas about how their relationship was dying. Suddenly he smelt something cooking, so he opened his eyes and looked over the back of the couch to see Matthew in the kitchen.

Finishing the last of the pancakes, Matthew placed them on a plate and went over to Alfred. He knew he couldn't get to sleep just like him, so hopefully this would help both of them. "For you..." He mumbled shyly.

Smiling, Alfred took the plate. Maybe things weren't so bad after all. "What about you?" He didn't miss that there was only one plate. He wouldn't let Matthew get away without eating.

"I'm too tired to be hungry." Matthew mumbled again, sitting beside Al. It was just about six but he knew that his boyfriend would still eat.

Sitting up, Alfred looked at him. "Eat. Don't bother complaining about it." He was probably thinking it would make him fat or something like that.

Getting up to grab a plate and cutlery, Matthew took a pancake off Alfred's plate and put it on his own. Cutting it up without saying a word, he started to eat it without saying anything. After all, it was already putting a sick feeling in his stomach.

Alfred smiled, making a mental note to not let Matthew go to the bathroom alone. "There, doesn't that feel better?" He asked, eating his own pancakes. He really was good at cooking, everything tasted great.

Shrugging, Matthew finished quickly and then watched as Alfred ate. He wasn't going to be able to go to the bathroom alone even if he wasn't going to throw up. There was a part of him saying that it was going to make him fat, but he would just have to exercise more. Al couldn't get mad at him for doing that.

"So what do you want to do today?" It was Saturday, so Alfred didn't have to work. He planned to not let Matthew out of his sight all day, just in case. He always wanted to be sure.

"Sleep, maybe write a bit and go for run." Matthew said noncommittally. Al was going to want to watch him all day and he didn't want to think how pressuring it was.

Putting some syrup on his pancakes, Alfred leaned against the back of the couch. "You wouldn't be so tired if you ate right." And didn't throw up, of course. But he wanted to sleep as well, considering he hadn't slept at all last night.

Sighing, Matthew tried not to say anything to that. "I think I'm going to have a nap."

Nodding, Alfred finished up the pancakes. "Maybe I will join you." He was feeling a little left out, not having been in the same bed as Matthew last night. After living with him, it had been a little lonely.

"Maybe..." Mathew realized that the more he made it feel as if something had happened, the more Alfred would continue acting as if he was just about to die. If he acted fine, then maybe he would stop being over protective.

Giving a large smile, Alfred leaned forward, kissing Matthew. Their lips were a little sticky from the syrup, but it didn't matter. He ran his tongue along the Canadian's lips, waiting for them to open. Everything would be alright. Matt would get better, and not be so skinny he looked like a skeleton, and they would continue loving each other for ever.

Hesitating for a second, Matthew parted his lips for Alfred's tongue. He could tell that the other was optimistic that he was going to be fine, but he already was. He wasn't sick at all, and Matthew didn't want to give Al any reason to think he was any more.

Smirking into the kiss, Alfred roamed the mouth he already knew so well. Kissing was such a nice feeling, he found himself thinking. He wrapped his arms around Matthew's waist, frowning slightly at just how skinny he was. He could feel his spine right through his shirt!

Matthew let the kiss linger for a few more seconds before breaking apart with a wet sound. "I'm too tired to be doing this..." He mumbled, too unsure of how to act around Al now that he could barely look him in the eye. He didn't forget all the outbursts he had yesterday even if his boyfriend seemed to have.

Alfred's mood fell quickly. They had done much more when they were more tired than now, so why was Matthew being like this? The only explanation was what had happened yesterday, but he had thought they already had that resolved. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong, I'm just tired." Matthew explained, running his hand through his wild hair as he put a bit more distance between them. It was so hard to pretend like nothing happened to them when it was quite obvious that something did. Al thought he was bulimic and Matthew knew he wasn't. He just knew.

Giving a sigh, Alfred stood up from the couch. "Alright, well then let's go to bed." Damn, what was wrong with Matthew? It was obvious he wasn't telling him everything, which was strange because he had been keeping a big secret until now, so why start acting weird now?

Nodding, the Canadian got up and put their dishes in the sink before going back to the bedroom. Maybe with Alfred there he would sleep better, but he doubted it. After everything that happened yesterday, he wasn't sure what Alfred was trying to do to him. Was he trying to help, or did he just want to make Matt more insecure about his weight? After all, he was forcing him to eat things that would make him become fat.

Laying down in the bed, Alfred waited for Matthew. Maybe if they talked more about this... but then he might start crying again. That wouldn't be good, because the blond hated seeing his boyfriend cry. He just felt so helpless when he cried.

Slipping into the covers, Matthew curled up into a ball like he did last night and closed his eyes. It was hard to ignore the fact that Alfred was right there, laying beside him. There was a large part of him that wished that Ludwig had never come over and that Alfred never found out, because then he wouldn't feel bad snuggling up to him like he did right now.

Putting a long arm over Matthew's body, Alfred pulled him close, wanting to touch as much of him as possible since having a whole night away from him. Maybe this would show that he cared about him too much to care about weight.

Matthew shivered lightly from the touch before slowly easing into it. All he had to do was pretend as if nothing had happened; that Alfred hadn't heard about his past from a stranger that could somehow tell. He kept himself from wrapping his own arms around Al though, still too preoccupied with his thoughts to do so.

Eyes closing, Alfred took a quick sniff of Matthew's hair. It always smelt so good. "I love you." He said quietly, making sure his lover could hear him.

"I..." He hesitated for a moment, knowing it was the truth on his behalf, but still too upset about everything to say it so casually. "I love you too."


	18. Chapter 18

Ludwig glanced at his clipboard before opening the door. He just wanted to confirm who this was supposed to be, and he was glad to see he was right on time, unlike his counterpart. "Hello, Matthew. How are you feeling today?"

"Hello, I'm just a bit tired I guess... And you?" Matthew asked politely, standing in the doorway. He didn't want to go in anyways, so he was just going to wait until the doctor let him in. Alfred had pleaded with him to at least go to one session just to make sure he was fine.

"I am doing fine, thank you." He gestured into the room, to the chair across from his. Ludwig could tell already that this was going to be a difficult case, considering it was obvious Matthew did not think he had a problem. Be that as it may, it was still his job to help him.

"So... What are you going to do to me?" He asked as he sat down. Matthew didn't mean to come off as rude sounding, but he really didn't want to be there.

Giving a small laugh, Ludwig sat down as well. "I am not going to do anything with you. If there is something on your mind you would like to talk about, then tell me, and I might be able to help. Also, with doctor-patient confidentiality, I cannot tell anyone what is said." First step was to gain his trust. If he started off with saying all the things that were bad with bulimia, nothing would be accomplished.

Nodding, Matthew was glad that fact was reiterated. He was pretty sure it was the case but it was nice hearing Ludwig say it. "Nothing's really on my mind... When there is I just go out for a run." And he didn't have to pay to do that. Plus, it helped to keep him in shape.

"Have you been running a lot lately? Do you ever run with Alfred?" He didn't write anything down, thinking that might scare Matthew from saying anything important. He could remember anything he needed to, so it wasn't too much of a problem waiting for after the session to write things down.

Shrugging, Matthew continued looking at everything in the office except for the German man. "I guess. It's not like I'm doing marathons or anything... As for Al, we used to run together at the gym but he's more into strength training."

Ludwig gave a nod, wondering if Matthew mostly ran just to lose weight. Most likely, since he seemed quite obsessed with it. "I hear that you are an author. What type of books do you write?" He asked, thinking that would give an idea of what type of person he was. There was a lot you could gather from a person by what they wrote.

"I write a lot of types of books. " Matthew said, fighting back a blush. He never liked it when people talked about his books since he never thought they were good. "Do you read at all?"

"Whenever I have time. I am usually a fan of war stories, myself, although not American ones." He wanted to give the impression this was just a normal conversation, nothing different. "When I was a child, my father said I read too much for a normal human." A little part about his own past, to make Matthew more comfortable and able to open up about his childhood.

"Hmm." He mumbled, crossing his legs. Matthew could somewhat tell what the doctor was doing, but he didn't want to say anything about it. "I never really read until I was eighteen unless it was for school."

Noticing the crossed legs, Ludwig made a mental note. Closing himself off to his surroundings, protecting himself subconsciously. He could also see that he was sitting up straight, back not even touching the back of the chair. He was obviously uncomfortable, but that didn't mean much. He was in a strange place, talking to someone he hardly knew. "I see you wear glasses. Do you prefer them to contacts?" They could be to hide himself behind, as well as his long hair. Not conclusive, of course, but given the situation, it seemed likely.

Narrowing his eyes slightly he just shrugged again. "I don't know, I've never tried contacts before." His questions were weird, but at least he wasn't blunt like Al could be. It was adorable only when he wasn't trying to help Matt which actually made it worse.

"You should try them. I'm sure they would suit you." Matthew didn't make it easy to keep a conversation going, so Ludwig just kept thinking up things to talk about that would give him a hint what he was thinking. "I'm sure Alfred would like to see you with them."

"I guess I could..." He mumbled, running a hand through his hair. "So just to let you know I don't have enough money to pay to keep coming here, so today will probably be my last visit. I just wanted to come to show that I was fine." And to get Alfred off his back.

Ludwig sighed. Matthew needed these, if he thought he did or not. "There are plans you can go on. Also, if you have insurance, that should cover some of it, at least." He wasn't usually the one to talk about expenses, it was usually his secretary. He found it tiring, because he didn't want to know about peoples financial records.

"I don't need to be here anyways, so there is no point. I'll just stop throwing up and exercise instead. Al will be happy and so will I." Matthew had enough with pretending now.

Leaning forward in his chair, Ludwig put his hands in his lap. "You have tried before, haven't you? Dieting, working out, perhaps even not eating at all. But in the end, they never worked, so you returned to purging. Don't you think that will happen again?" It was as he had feared, Matthew still didn't think he had a problem.

"Maybe it will, maybe it won't. I'll still keep from throwing up as much as I did in the past and I'll keep to my diets. The only time I purge now is when I eat a lot if Al isn't home. That's not bad. I exercise too which keeps me in shape." Although he didn't want to feel like he had to defend his decision, Ludwig was making him do just that.

Yes, this was a difficult case. Like an addict, Matthew believed he could stop whenever he wanted. "What about when you feel guilty? If perhaps one day you don't run, or you eat a chocolate? I think we both know you will not be able to control yourself." He would have to speak with someone close to him, so that perhaps they could help. Possibly Alfred, but it seemed Matthew was defencive with him.

"How do you know that I can't control myself? I've been taking care of myself and others all my life, why can't I now?" Matthew snapped, getting upset with the man. He didn't know just how much he had been able to do all his life.

"This has nothing to do with taking care of yourself. Matthew, tell me why you throw up." Not just to become skinny. Usually it was only women that wanted to be skinnier, so Ludwig was curious what his reasons were.

"I don't anymore! Alfred and you seem to think I do but I don't! I only do now when I eat too much and won't be able to work it off. Other then that, I'm fine." If he was the doctor, then he should be able to realize what his reasons were without asking.

Taking a second, the German leaned back in his seat. "Alright. If you promise me something, I will let you go. Promise that if you throw up, or use laxatives, to become skinnier, you will come see me again. If you promise me that, you can leave." It was obvious that Matthew wouldn't do anything if he thought he could stop.

"Fine, whatever. If I purge I'll come back but I know I won't. I don't have to do it." Relaxing into the chair, Matthew crossed his arms. "Do I need to stay here the whole time? If I don't then I want to go run for a bit."

Nodding, Ludwig picked up his clipboard. "Yes, you may go." In truth, he would be happy if Matthew never purged again, and lived a happy life. However, that had never happened with any of his patients, unless they had help.

Matthew stood up and nodded back. "I wish we could have met under different circumstances." He mumbled as he got his jacket and went out of the office. There was no way be would find himself in that room again.

.oOo.

When Alfred heard the front door open, he stood up, going to see him. He had been worrying since Matthew had left, hoping everything would go alright. He saw the Canadian taking off his jacket. "So? What happened?"

"Not much. Ludwig said I didn't have to see him any more. " Well, he said he didn't if he didn't throw up, but it wasn't like he was about to. Plus Al couldn't ask him because of the confidentiality between them. Now things between them would get back to normal.

Not fully believing him, Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Really? Because he seemed like he wanted you in there on a regular basis." The past few days had been awkward, Matthew not really feeling comfortable around him. But, if he was getting better...

Shaking his head, Matthew smiled. "I guess he changed his mind." It was mostly because Matt had gotten upset with him, but now everything was done. Everything was ok, and Matthew didn't have to feel awkward around the one person who did love him.

Nodding, Alfred was still slightly suspicious, but let it slide. "Well, what should we do before supper?" They hadn't had sex for a while, so he was hoping that would be what they could do to pass the time, but didn't want to actually say so, in case Matthew somehow took offence to that.

"I don't know, what do you want to do?" Already he was feeling better that he wouldn't have to think about the last few days ever again. No more throwing up for a stress free life seemed like a good exchange.

Smirking, Alfred answered with his body, moving closer and putting an arm around Matthew's waist, pulling him closer. Next he attacked his lips, tongue roaming inside. Soon, the Canadian wouldn't be so skinny, and he wouldn't feel like he was breaking him whenever they had sex.

Matthew kissed back for a few seconds before pulling away. It wouldn't be good if they had sex now, no matter just how much both of them wanted it. "How about I take a rain check with that? Just for a few days at least."

Alfred gave a sigh, stepping back. "Fine. Well I'm gonna watch TV then." So Matt still wasn't alright with this? He had thought the Canadian would have worked that all out with the doc on their visit.

"Sorry..." He mumbled before picking his voice up. "What were you thinking about for supper? I don't really know what to make." And plus he could make what Al wanted so he wouldn't be so distraught at him not wanting to have sex. If there was anything Matthew learnt about Alfred, it was that he had intense emotions, but they were easily changed.

"We can just go out. I don't feel like making you cook." He went over to the couch, not sure what he was feeling. Yes, he was glad Matthew was getting help, and knew they still loved each other, but it just felt like it had changed. It was strange.

"Are you sure? Though, we haven't gone out for a while... And it would be nice to go on a date again..." Matthew trailed off, sitting on the arm of the couch with a smile. He really didn't want his lover to worry about him when nothing was wrong.

Leaning over, Alfred rested his chin on Matthew's thigh. It was still so thin, but it would get better. "You will tell me if anything happens, right? Like, anything at all. Like you go see the doc again, or you feel like you need to puke, right?"

Matthew bent awkwardly to kiss Al on the top of his head. "I promise." He mumbled against the golden locks, taking a deep breath before pulling back. It never failed to make him feel safe and secure even when their relationship felt awkward. "So what do you want to go eat? Chinese, pizza, Greek, French..."

"Anything but French." Alfred said automatically. For some reason, he had always hated French food. He lifted his head, instead wrapping his arms around Matthew's hips. "Something that will be so good, you will want to eat it, and keep it in your stomach for ever." He grinned up at him.

Parroting back the same smile, Matthew laughed. "I really don't care at this point." He wasn't going to start saying how he wouldn't eat anything with more fat than protein or high sodium or too many calories, since then Alfred might become more protective about what he was thinking about food as well as what he ate anyways.

Glad, the American squeezed him, pressing his face against Matthew's side. "Good. Well, I'm leaving the choice up to you, and you can't just say you don't care where we eat. Choose."

"Hmmm..." Thinking for a moment, Matthew nibbled on his bottom lip. French was out, and Italian would be too many carbs -plus it was over done as a date dinner. Greek food would be ok... If it wasn't for all the oils and such. Maybe Indian... But it was too spicy for him. "How about Turkish?" They had kebabs which were just grilled veggies and lean meat. That would be ok.

"Is there even a Turkish restaurant around here? I've never heard of one." There were way too many foreign foods in this country. It should all be good American food, because that was the best kind. But Alfred accepted that his lover always liked other cultures.

Nodding, the Canadian explained. "It's about ten minutes away but it's there. It's just not well known." Not to mention that he knew the owner. It was a good place and he used to eat there occasionally when Al and him were only starting to go out. Even now he wouldn't mind eating it and keeping it down.

Shrugging his shoulders, Alfred stood up. It would be an early dinner, but he was fine with it. "Ten minutes walking or driving?" He went to the closet, getting out both of their jackets and handing Matthew's to him. It wasn't too cold out, so he grabbed his favorite one, made of faded leather.

"Walking. Twenty if you drive." Smiling at his own joke, Matthew put his red jacket on gladly before kissing Alfred lightly on the lips. "Thank you for all the help."

"Was I helping?" Alfred joked as well, kissing him back. They left the house, and he followed Matthew. Putting his arm down, Al wondered if he would get mad at him if they held hands, since it was public and everything.

The strawberry blond paused for a moment before nodding. "You did... It just... Hurt at first, having all that happen at once. But now I'm ok." Matthew could tell by Al's body language what he wanted, so he reached his own hand out and grabbed it shyly. It was still in public, but he didn't want the strange feeling that was over both of their heads to linger. He still loved Al with all his heart, he just was upset that he still thought he had a problem with bulimia.

"I'm sorry." Alfred lifted both of their hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing the back of Matthew's. "Forgive me?"

As he promised, Matthew kept the food in his stomach from their dinner together. It felt strange, but he knew he couldn't go back on two promises. The next dinner they had together though was what had him shaking like a leaf beside the toilet bowl in their house after throwing up uncontrollably in it. Matthew just couldn't do it. Something was telling him that he needed to get it out of his body. He could eat it, but not digest it.

Walking in the house, Alfred started looking for Matt. It only took him a minute to see the bathroom door closed. His eyes widened, fearing the worst. He opened it, and gave a pained sigh. "Matt...?" He said quietly.

Still shivering, the Canadian didn't even hear Al as he curled up into a ball and started leaking tears. How did he let himself do this? Now he was going to have to go back. He had to. There was no way he could even though he knew he had to do it. It was pure instinct to shove his fingers down his throat. It felt right; it felt natural.

Dropping to the ground beside the shivering man, Alfred bit his lip as he wrapped his arms around him. How could he do this, after all they had been through? He felt angry, but knew it would only make things worse. Instead, he tried comforting Matthew.

"I... I h-have to go b-b-back..." Mathew mumbled past the lump in his throat. His heart was in his chest and with Al holding him he could barely breath past his acid tinged breath. "I have t-to see him..."

"What are you talking about?" Alfred asked quietly, wanting to yell but not wanting to upset his lover. He started to run his fingers through his hair, grabbing some toilet paper to wipe the small bit of vomit still on Matthew's mouth.

"I c-can't do it... I-I'm not sick... I... I can't be..." Matthew continued to mumble to himself, wanting to keep the illusion that he was fine. In fact he knew something had to be wrong if throwing up determined if he felt good or not.

"No, you're not fine. You just made yourself throw up!" Alfred closed his eyes, trying to calm down. How could Matthew do this and think it was ok? "Look, I love you. But you need help, Matt."

Shaking even more, he shook his head. Matthew kept at it until his whole body was a convulsing mess. He couldn't be sick. He just couldn't! If he was sick, then why did people care about him? How could people love him?

Alfred sighed, pulling him closer. "It's ok, just don't do it again, and go back to Ludwig." He would help, he needed to help. Matthew couldn't go on like this much longer, and needed to get better.

"Wo-Would you still l-love me i-if I was s-s-sick?" Matthew bawled, his eyes and nose leaking now. He could barely control himself now, holding onto Al as if he were a life line in a rampaging sea. There was no way he would go if Alfred wouldn't care about him anymore.

"Of course I love you! I love you no matter what, and don't you ever forget that." Maybe he would just have to say it more. Alfred was never one for things like that, but if it would make Matt feel better he would.

Wiping his face off, more tears fell in their place. "T-T-Thank y-you..." He mumbled again, holding on tighter to Al. Matthew knew that when he let go he would have to face the facts, so he just held on tighter. He didn't want anything in his world except the smell of Alfred's shirt and the comforting feeling of being held.

"That's not something you should say thank you for." Alfred said quietly, whispering lightly into his ear. He just couldn't understand why Matthew was doing this, why he felt he needed to puke. Maybe that answer lay in his past, where the American wasn't allowed to go. Yet.

Sobbing openly into Alfred's chest, Matthew's tears eventually slowed to a stop as his breath evened out as well. He wasn't used to being that emotional, and he completely drained himself.

Alfred continued holding him even after Matthew stopped crying. The floor was cold, but he didn't want to leave him, so they stayed like that. He kept whispering 'I love you', trying to make him feel better.


	19. Chapter 19

The next morning Matthew woke up in bed beside Alfred. He wasn't sure how they got there but that wasn't the problem right now. The problem was that he had to phone Ludwig today and he desperately didn't want to. Phoning him was admitting he was sick, and Matthew didn't want to be sick.

Feeling the bed move, Alfred groggily opened his eyes. "How are you feeling?" He asked, the question holding more weight than what it sounded like. If he was feeling better, maybe he would never puke again. But if he wasn't...

"I don't know anymore..." He mumbled truthfully. Snuggling under the covers more, Matthew tried to get to sleep despite his racing heart. He knew he was going to have to make an appointment today and he didn't want to face that fact.

Giving a sad sigh, Alfred closed his eyes as well, putting a comforting hand on Matthew's shoulder. "It will be alright. I'm here, if you need me." Because he would always be by his side, no matter what. The American had decided that a while ago.

Getting closer to the touch, Matthew curled up against Alfred's chest. "I don't want to do it..." He mumbled again, his body too drained to cry now.

"You have to. I can call him if you want, and set up an appointment and everything, but you have to see him." Alfred didn't really know what went on that first meeting, but what he knew was that Matthew needed help, and Ludwig could give him that help.

Nodding silently, Matthew clung onto him tighter. He desperately didn't want to go back because the guy asked him too many questions about his past that he didn't want to talk about. Even Francis and him never talked about it and he helped the Canadian through it.

.oOo.

Ludwig had mixed feelings about the meeting he was about to have. On one hand, it sounded like Matthew actually did realize now that he had a problem. But, there had also been a part of him that had hoped that he would actually be able to get better with no help. It would be a great accomplishment.

Standing outside the door, Matthew gave Alfred one last hug. "Please don't hate me for this..." He whispered into his shoulder. He finally admitted he had a problem and now he was going to fix it all. Hopefully he wouldn't feel more comfortable with fingers down his throat than without them.

"Stop saying that. I love you, not hate you, and that isn't changing because you need help." Alfred let him go, giving a small smile. "Now get in there, and I will pick you up when you're done."

Pushing his hair away from his face, Matthew gave his lover a weak smile before adjusting his glasses and taking a deep breath. This was it. "I-I'll see you later then." Knocking on the door, he waited for permission to go in.

"Come in, Matthew." Ludwig gave a strained smile when he saw the shy blond enter. He never liked smiling, but figured that if he did, his patients would feel better. Although his secretary said his smile was scary... "How are you today?"

"You know how I feel if I'm here." Matthew said as he looked to his feet. Closing the door behind him, he allowed himself to sit on the comfy chair across from the doctor. "I... I'm not feeling well."

Nodding, Ludwig let the smile fall from his face. "It is good you admit it. Tell me what happened." Even though he already knew what happened, basically. It was always the same, with bulimia. What he was really hoping to find out about was his past, because he was sure it was the reason for his insecurity and self hatred.

Rubbing his arm awkwardly, Matthew looked to the ground. "I was fine for a bit. I ate a full meal and didn't feel bad about it... But it was also healthy and not full of calories. Yesterday though... I couldn't stop myself. I kept feeling like something was wrong. Like if my fingers weren't down my throat then I wouldn't be ok."

"What did Alfred do?" He figured Alfred was a very big part of Matthew's life, so it would be good to see what their life together was like. He wasn't homophobic, so it didn't bug him much, but he had never dealt with one before.

"A-After I threw up, I kinda freaked out and couldn't think straight so he found me on the bathroom floor and let him c-cry on him... Then today I woke up in bed. He told me I had to phone you, but I already knew that. I made you a promise. I can't break my promises."

Understanding, the German put his arms on the arm rests of his chair. "Are you willing to tell me about your past?" Matthew kept his promise with him and actually came back, proving that, in part at least, he trusted Ludwig. Perhaps he would tell him what he needed to know. "Remember, everything said in here is confidential."

Silence stretched between them as Matthew slowly met his bright, sharp gaze. He wasn't quite sure how he wanted to answer that, but he knew what Ludwig wanted. Gathering his courage, he said. "I... I guess."

"Whenever you are ready." Ludwig said, giving Matthew the stage. Everything now depended on him, so he would just let him continue.

"Wh-What exactly do you want to know?" Matthew asked, too shy to give up anything. Plus there was so much that he had no idea just where to start.

"Tell me..." Ludwig leaned forward, thinking about what he needed to know. "Tell me about your father." It seemed to be the most painful of his memories, and would probably encompass most, if not all, of his problems.

Visibly wincing, the Canadian squeezed his eyes shut and held onto his arm tightly. "Does i-it have t-to be that?" If he couldn't even tell his own lover, what made the doctor think he would tell him? It would feel nice to get it out, but it was so long ago and held so much weight...

"You have to get it out, Matthew. It is like a poison, eating you from the inside out." It was an analogy he used a lot, since it tended to work fairly well. Of course, this man in front of him was obviously of higher intelligence, so it was possible that things like this wouldn't work on him.

Taking a deep breath, he looked behind him as if Alfred would be there. This... This was just about too much. "Why should I tell you if Al doesn't even know?"

"Well, if you would rather tell him, that would be fine. But I have a feeling you don't want him to know even more than me." Ludwig grabbed a glass of water from his desk, taking a drink. "If you would like a drink, there is some in the corner."

Wincing again, Matthew let out a shaky, unsure breath. "I'm ok... But can I tell you something else? I could talk about school or my friend or anything else! I lived in a city near Vancouver and I used to always pick wild blackberries in the summer and eat them until I got sick." Anything would be better than talking about _him_.

Giving a sigh, Ludwig put down the glass. "I do not think it is the blackberries that ails you more than ten years later." Bulimia could not be helped without getting to the root of the problem. Just like a weed, it could be cut down and would simply get stronger and bigger, unless you got everything.

"I never had any friends in school. I wasn't bullied. Everyone just ignored me. I was just a shell that was in high school and happened to get straight A's." This was more than anyone but Francis knew already, but Matthew was getting somewhat desperate. Already his voice held a note of hysteria.

"And?" Ludwig asked, determined to get more out of him.

"I tried to kill myself once. My one friend found me just as I was about to OD on sleeping pills." Now if that couldn't be thought of as a possible cause, then Matthew was running out of things to say to keep away from that topic. His body was shaking lightly and goosebumps appeared over his pale flesh.

Reminding himself to write that down after this session was over, Ludwig pressed on. "Why did you try to kill yourself? What was the cause of your depression? Don't tell me it was because of school, you are too smart for that."

Matthew could feel his heart beat pulsing through his body, igniting all his nerves to tell him to get out of there before he said too much. Obviously he couldn't listen to it, since... Well, since Ludwig apparently wanted to help him get better. "Maybe it was because of school. I already said I didn't have any friends other than one. No one cared about me; it didn't even matter to the teachers if I was in class or not. I only studied and had no social life. What kind of normal person enjoys a life like that?" His voice had gotten progressively louder, holding back his tears desperately.

"You had one friend, that is why. That friend meant a lot to you, so you wouldn't try to kill yourself because of having no social life." Despite the rise in Matthew's voice, Ludwig stayed at his normal volume, hating it when people caused commotions.

"One freaking friend! I don't see many people with high self-esteem because they have one friend! Sure he cared about me, but maybe I wanted more!" His hands digging into the chair arms, Matthew forced himself to take a deep, shaking breath to calm down.

"I never said you would have high self-esteem, but it wouldn't be bad enough to kill yourself over. This friend, how much did he care about you? What was he willing to do for you?" He had a hunch, and thought that changing the topic slightly may make Matthew calm down.

Loosening his grip on the chair, Matthew sighed. He was still on edge, but this was changing the subject like he wanted. "He was my only friend. Obviously if he noticed me he cared about me. Some how he even got his family to let him move with me to America. Really, he did everything for me. Still does."

"With a friend that cared so much about you, would you really attempt suicide for being lonely?" It might be a good idea to meet this friend, but it was important that Matthew was the one to tell about his past. He had to get it out, so that he could truly start to heal.

"And what if I did? He had many girlfriend and boyfriends. Maybe he really wasn't looking out for me, but for himself so he could look better to his prospective lovers? What would that mean to you? How about if I had tried to kill myself with a knife or by drugs? What would that say about me?" Matthew felt bad talking about Francis like this, but maybe it would throw Ludwig off and he wouldn't have to talk about his father.

Taking a second to take in a deep breath, Ludwig looked to the ceiling for a second. This was going to be difficult. "Well, if you tried to kill yourself because you were lonely, then you should have no problems talking about your father."

"Maybe that's why I felt lonely. Did you not calculate that into your perfect formula?" Matthew spat, looking to the side of the room with a deep frown on his face. All this was doing was making him angry, not feel better and not seem as if he was a fat ass.

Giving a dramatic sigh that Ludwig surprised himself with, he dropped his hands. "You do not want help. You are here as a lie, to yourself, and Alfred. I wonder how long your relationship will last when it has so much dishonesty?"

Cracking under the words, Matthew's fingernails dug into his palm as he fought to control his breathing. _Easy Matt, calm down,_ he mumbled to himself to no avail. Rage bubbling under the surface he whispered. "You want me to tell you about my father? Fine. My father didn't deserve to live. I couldn't kill the fucker, no. That wasn't something people could do, never mind a child to his own blood relative. The man that brought him into life."

Glad he had finally knocked on the right door, Ludwig was set to listen. He was a little startled to hear Matthew swear, because he seemed so decent. But, given the situation, he could understand.

"But he was allowed to live. My mother tried giving him a chance, but instead she ran away with some other bastard and left me to take care of him. I know what you're going to say, 'many people have gone through what you have.' It's the truth, I know. I've seen the commercials. But it's a completely different fucking thing to be on the other end of it."

Unable to stop himself, he rose to his feet and slammed his hands on Ludwig's desk, leaning over it to yell in his face. "The reason I never talk about him is because he was the most vile person on the face of the planet. Let's fucking leave it at that."

Giving a small, real smile, Ludwig leaned closer. "How do you feel?" It was a terribly cliché thing to ask, but it usually worked very well. He was happy to see Matthew show so much emotion, because he was letting it out instead of bottling it up.

Breathing heavily, it took a few nanoseconds for his grimace to fall and be replaced by a whimpering expression. His leg's shaking and threatening to give out from under him, Matthew stepped back to the chair and fell into it. Something was telling him it felt good to talk about it, but he didn't want to listen to it. "H-H-He... I c-can't... Always..."

"You can't what?" He hated it when people didn't speak in complete sentences, because he had no idea what they were trying to say. It was just mumbles, and he could hardly make out the few words he did say.

"I can't t-talk about this..." He managed to get out without stuttering too much. Just admitting that much had his heart racing and his body shaking. "I never can... Not... Not even to Alfred. Not even Francis..."

Standing up, Ludwig went beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Usually he didn't like physical contact with someone he hardly knew, but was aware that people needed comforting sometimes. "I think we came a long way today. Would the same time next week work for you?"

Not trusting his voice, the Canadian just nodded. When Ludwig went back to his desk, he couldn't stop the tears flowing down his face. He felt somewhat better, but at the same time, much worse.

"Is Alfred waiting for you? You don't have to tell him what happened today, if you don't want to." Although it would probably be a good thing for him to know about Matthew's past. But they would get there eventually.

Once again, Matthew nodded. He wasn't sure if seeing him would be a good or a bad thing yet, but he knew he had to eventually go out of the room. "Can... Can I bring Kuma next time?"

Not really knowing what 'Kuma' was, Ludwig gave a nod. Perhaps it would make him feel more comfortable, perhaps even enough to talk more about his father. It always amazed him how someone could do something so cruel to their own child.

"O-One more thing... When... When will I get better?" He couldn't stop himself before the question flew out of his lips. Blushing, he covered his mouth, but he still was listening intently for the answer.

Having heard the same question from many other patients, Ludwig said what he always did. "That depends on you." Especially in this case. How much time it would take for him to let go of his past, how long it would take him to gain enough self-esteem to have confidence in himself.

Matthew nodded for the last time before standing up. He was feeling less likely to cry now, so he could face Alfred. "I guess I'll see you next week. Goodbye." Having his stuffy Kumajirou would make him feel better next time hopefully.

Sitting in the lobby, Alfred stood up when he saw Matt walking out of the room. He ran to him, taking his shoulders into his hands. "How was it? Are you ok?" He could tell he had cried, but maybe that was a good sign?

"I think so..." He mumbled, hugging Al tightly. He would never understand just why Matthew had to keep his love and affection, but maybe for now that was ok. Eventually he knew that the doctor would tell him to explain it to his lover. "Can we go home now?"

Hugging him back, Alfred nodded. He wished he could have been in that small room with him, instead of waiting so far away. It felt horrible, knowing that Matthew was going through stuff in there, and he couldn't help him at all.

"Now?" He pressed, liking the contact but at the same time feeling as if it was poisonous. Ludwig's words were burrowing through his mind, about how long their relationship could last with so many lies. Hopefully there would be a day that he could talk about his past with his lover without feeling as if he would leave him because of it.

"Of course." They made their way to the door, still hugging. It made it awkward to walk, but Alfred didn't want to let go. He kept telling himself that everything was going to work out. It was all going to be fine, because they both loved each other, and that was all that really mattered, wasn't it?

Getting out to the car, Matthew was the first one to release from the embrace. He couldn't help but think about everything he said in that room. All the feelings and thoughts that not even Francis knew about. Thinking even more, it was almost like even he didn't realize that was just how he felt when he finally erupted. "Alfred... I still love you, and I hope you love me too."

"Are we really having this conversation again?" Alfred leaned over the seats, kissing Matthew briefly on the lips. "I love you. I fucking love you, if you want me to carve it into my arm so you will never forget, I will. Please believe me."

"I believe you... I just need to hear you say it..." Because after each session he could tell that Ludwig would get him to say more about his bitter past. With every unveiling he was also expecting to be a wreak for a while; feeling guilty that he never told Alfred any of this. "And please don't hurt yourself because of me, I'd never forgive myself."

Putting on his seat belt, Alfred nodded. "If you promise to try your best and get better." Because really, he couldn't stand Matthew throwing up just to get skinny.

Pausing for a second, Matthew agreed. "I promise I'll try. It... It will be hard, but I will." At least now he felt like he could be honest about it. Before he would have said nothing was wrong, so Al wouldn't have to worry about him.

Smiling, Alfred started driving. "Remember, I will be here for you."


	20. Chapter 20

A month had gone by since Matthew had started to go to Ludwig. He just finished cleaning the living room and kitchen since Francis was going to come over and he didn't want to make a bad impression. They were already quite clean, but it gave him something to do. "Is the bedroom clean Al?" He yelled over his shoulder.

"Why? He won't be going in there." And if he did, with Matthew, well then Alfred would have a little word with him. Not that he didn't trust Francis of course. He might get a little jealous sometimes with how much he knew about the Canadian, but he was a good guy.

"Because I want the whole house clean. Do you want him to tell Arthur our house is a mess? You know what he'll do if he hears that." The strawberry blond explained, putting away the last of the clean dishes.

Giving a small snort of laughter, Alfred finished folding the blanket. "Yes, poor little Arty will have a fit and claim that I am a horrible person that has forced you to live a dirty life." He didn't really care what others thought, though.

Matthew smiled to himself as he went to the bedroom door and leaned against the door frame. "But it's the truth, don't you know that? You _force_ me to sleep on the same sheets for two weeks and we don't do dishes right away. Terribly filthy." He added with a British accent.

"Well, look at it this way. _You_ force me to change the sheets every two weeks." Alfred said with a laugh, putting the blanket in the closet. The past month had had some troubles, obviously, but they had gotten through it. There had even been one time when Alfred had needed to forcibly stop Matthew from making himself throw up, but since then there hadn't been an incident. That he knew about at least.

Matthew jumped when he heard the doorbell ring, but still leaned forward to give Alfred a small kiss. If it wasn't for him, maybe he wouldn't have become bulimic, but he wouldn't have been able to recover either. The American constantly helped him feel better, even when he almost had a break down when he saw that he gained ten pounds from eating normally and not throwing up.

"One second_._" Matthew mumbled as the door bell rang again before he opened it. "Hello Francis! _How are you?"_

"_Good, good, and you?_" The blond man responded in French as well, but when he saw Alfred behind him he switched to English to be considerate. "You are looking very good, Matthew. It has been so long!" When Alfred had told him about the bulimia, they had decided that it would probably be best to let Matthew stay at home and not need to entertain guests for a while, so they hadn't seen each other for almost a whole month. He had been surprised when he had found out, but figured it was better than what he had tried to do when they were younger.

Stepping forward to give Francis a hug, he responded. "It has been long... _Too_ long." He had talked to Ludwig a few times about Francis now, and it only made him want to see his friend more. Plus Matthew's doctor wanted him to ask the Frenchman to come one day so he could meet him, but he was always too embarrassed to ask him.

Alfred watched with a smile on his face. It was good to see Matthew be so happy again, it really was. It was also good to see him fill out his form, and not be so skinny he looked like he was going to break in half. "Good to see you, Francis. I have been cleaning all day because he wanted to make a good impression."

Hearing and feeling Francis laugh, Matthew pulled away and glared playfully at Al. "You weren't supposed to tell him! That ruins the point of doing it!" It was nice to have his lover help him though, but he wanted to make sure that neither Francis nor Arthur would worry about him.

"Oh, it's fine. It can be our secret." Francis said, still laughing. He went further into the house, taking off his shoes. "Thank you for inviting me over. It is too bad Arthur couldn't come." Apparently, he had some very important embroidery that needed to be finished.

Taking Francis' coat and hanging it up, Matthew nodded. "It would have been nice to see him as well." Though he had a sneaking suspicion that he would have been asking about his doctor appointments and about his bulimia in general and he wasn't sure if he would be up to answering the questions just yet. Sure he knew that throwing up wasn't worth it any more, but he was still weak from it and yet felt fat.

Alfred made his way to the living room, and sat down on the couch, waiting for Matthew to sit next to him. Really, even if they were lovers, he already knew he would be the third wheel tonight. But he didn't care much, because it was for Matt.

Taking a small breath, Francis readied himself for what he was about to say. He had known he would have to ask, or else he would still be worrying, but he knew it would probably cause problems. To keep those to a minimum, he turned to French, not wanting Alfred to understand. "_Is he helping you with other things? Like your past?_"

Pausing for a second, Matthew frowned and responded in French. "_Ludwig? I have been talking to him about it. He thinks that the more I talk about it, the better I will feel."_

Pouting, Alfred crossed his arms. "Stop talking in French!"

"_Well I think that will be good. Does Alfred know at all?"_ Francis ignored the American, having heard the exact same thing from Arthur plenty of times.

This time Matthew grimaced and clenched his fists before answering. "_No, not yet. I don't want to make him worry."_ It was partially the truth, but Francis didn't need to know the other, darker reasons.

Noticing the change in Matthew's body language, Alfred stood up and put his arms around him. "Hey, you ok?" He whispered into his ear. Then, louder so Francis could hear, he said, "Well, should we start eating? Don't want it to get cold."

Seeing his friend nod, Matthew all but tore himself from the embrace. He didn't like it when people worried about him. He knew that Alfred and Francis were just looking out for him, but it was still a foreign feeling. "Let's." Although he didn't mean for it to sound strained, it still did.

Deciding to let the subject drop, Francis followed them into the dinning room. He knew that now it was no longer his job to take care of Matthew, that Alfred was there for him now, but he still couldn't help his instincts to protect him.

Taking the food from the oven, Matthew set it on the table with an over done smile to hide his strange feelings. "It's not much..." He apologized, blushing slightly at the less than five star quality food. The Canadian knew that his friend had studied at Le Cordon Bleu for a few years and was fully qualified to open up his own gourmet restaurant so he was always embarrassed to feed him. Not that Alfred on the other hand could tell the difference between saffron and seasoning salt.

Smiling, Francis picked up his cutlery. "It is great, don't worry. I have complete confidence in your cooking ability." It wasn't like he was a prude that wouldn't eat food that was less than perfect. Matthew always wanted to make people happy, so he always tried too hard.

"Food! I'm starving!" Alfred said, taking the first helping from the dish. He could always eat, of course, so it was no surprise that he was always content with whatever Matthew wanted to cook.

"Al! You're supposed to wait for Francis!" Matthew hissed lightly, hitting him on the back of his head lightly. It was the polite thing to do after all. All he was glad for was that Francis understood not to press him further to talk more about his meetings. Sure the Parisian was there with him during it, but it was still difficult to talk about.

"It's his fault he wasn't fast enough." Alfred said, taking the food anyways. Francis was a chill guy, so he wouldn't mind. He put some of the food in his mouth, hardly even chewing. "This tastes great, Matt." He said with his full mouth, waiving his fork around.

Giving a laugh, Francis took some food as well. "Just let him eat, I am sure he needs as much as he can get."

"You're probably right." Matthew laughed as well, only taking a small amount for himself. He wasn't very hungry, plus he was getting himself used to eating food without throwing up after. There hadn't been a binging/purging incident for a little more than a month now and he was trying to keep it that way.

They ate without major incident, besides Matthew telling Alfred off for talking with his mouth full a few times. Francis was happy, seeing Matthew getting better. He knew it wasn't all perfect, because that was practically impossible so soon. But it seemed to be getting better.

About an hour went by as they talked about this and that before Francis excused himself from the table. Matthew helped him out after saying their goodbyes before sighing and locking the door behind him. Turning around, he saw Alfred standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

"So what were you guys talking about, when you were talking in French?" He asked, needing to know what had made Matthew react that way. This time he wouldn't let it go without a straight answer, because he had a pretty good idea what it had been about.

"Nothing too important." Matthew said normally, trying to walk past Al. "I need to wash the dishes." He explained, still trying to get past him.

Grabbing his wrist, Alfred wouldn't let him go. "It was about your past, wasn't it?" Because lately, that was the only thing that could make Matthew go into the defencive mode. He needed to know at least a little about it, it had been this way long enough. All he knew was what Ludwig had said that first time, and that was all on a hunch.

Taking a deep breath, Matthew tried to pull his wrist out of Alfred's grasp. "Not completely." He really didn't want to tell him this now. Matthew barely wanted to tell Ludwig, but the man knew how to pull his strings too well to get him to comply.

"Matthew." Alfred said, using his full name for once. "Please, tell me." Sure, he wasn't a psychologist, and couldn't tell what a person was thinking just by looking at them, but he hoped that since they loved each other, he could use that to get his boyfriend to tell him.

"So we did. What about it?" Matthew stopped himself from hissing and gave up trying to get away from Alfred. There was going to have to be a time for him to tell his lover, and now it seemed like that time had come.

"Let's sit down." Alfred said, leading him to a couch. Once seated, he gave a sigh. "If you really can't trust me enough to tell me, I understand. But please, Matt. Tell me." They both knew they weren't talking about the incident with Francis anymore.

Holding his breath for a second, the Canadian mumbled. "I do trust you... I... I just don't trust myself." That was the truth, since he didn't want Al to know just what he went through. Al might still love him, but Matthew would be able to tell if it was more pity than adoration.

Grabbing his hands, Alfred leaned closer. "_I_ trust you." He said simply, hoping that would help. He didn't need to know every single detail, but just enough so he could support him better with dealing with everything.

"B-But how will you understand?" Matthew's voice rose in pitch, feeling almost trapped. "How will you truly know? It was my childhood; I don't know anything else. It was _normal_ for me. Cleaning the house all the time after school and homework was how I grew up." He suddenly felt as if Al was trying to use this information against him, even if he knew there was no way he would. It was how he learnt to think about it after having no one truly care about him before.

Pulling him closer, Alfred held Matthew against him, not letting go. "Make me understand." He whispered, not wanting him to go through all this alone. Of course, he had always had Francis, but that was back then. Now, this was his job, and it was the most important job of his life.

Making a keening sound, Matthew tried to squirm out of the hold. He didn't want to be touched right now. All he wanted was to be alone and pretend like his childhood didn't affect him. "You won't understand. No one will. You will just pity me and feel bad for living a normal life when I seemingly suffered. If I didn't like it, do you think I would have stayed to take care of my father when my mom left? The bastard didn't deserve it, but I couldn't let him die in his own filth. I wanted to do it myself. Now leave me alone."

"So what if I pity you? Doesn't that show that I love you?" It wasn't the usual, shallow feeling of pity he had. This feeling was much deeper, not just 'I wish he didn't go through that'. This was 'I wish I could have gone through that for him'.

Shaking his head, Matthew fought against the hold even more. He could tell he was getting close to crying, and didn't want to break down in front of Alfred this time. "It's always the same fucking thing. That's why I couldn't tell anyone, least of all you. All humans do is say 'sorry' and stuff and their lives go on. My life has been going on too, but it doesn't mean I can forget the times were I had to nurse a broken arm or leg until my father fell asleep to go to the hospital. I'm not lucky enough to be able to be proud of who I am."

"You should be proud. You are the best person I know. If I had met Neil Armstrong, you would still be the best person I know." Because, as awesome as Neil Armstrong was, Alfred didn't love him. But he did love the boy that was shaking slightly in his arms.

"How could I when I was constantly told that I was a fat ass, waste of space by my own father who constantly beat me?" Matthew yelled out, shaking too hard and too many tears jumping to his eyes to care about Alfred's response to that.

God, how could a father do that to his own son? Alfred felt rage build up inside him, but kept it down, knowing that it wouldn't help. The man wasn't here, but hopefully he was long dead. He wasn't sure what to say, so he just stayed there and let Matthew's tears fall on his shirt.

Feeling his own anger start to bubble up inside him, Matthew fought one last time for his freedom and managed to stand up. "Fine. Don't fucking say anything. I knew it wouldn't do anything to tell you, which is why I never did." He knew it was harsh, but Matthew didn't know what he wanted to hear right now, but he knew it wasn't silence. He had enough of that in his lifetime from himself.

Before Al could react, he slipped his shoes on and ran out the door. There was only one other person in the world that he could talk to without feeling too guilty about all of it, and he needed to see him even though he had just left.

Trying to run after him, Alfred was too late and got to the door just as it was slamming shut. Dammit! How the hell was he _supposed_ to act when his lover was finally opening himself up and telling him about his past? He was horrible with these touchy feely things, but he really wanted to try. If only he knew about all the emotional stuff, like Francis. Matthew could probably tell Francis anything, but he couldn't even tell his own boyfriend why he was in pain. Fuck, Matt would have been better off dating someone else.

Sprinting to Francis' home, the tears in Matthew's eyes made it difficult to find his way. Eventually he did find himself at his friend's door where he knocked frantically until it was answered. Not even noticing who it was, he surged forward and held him in with hiccoughing sobs.

"Er... I think you want Francis lad..." Arthur mumbled awkwardly, blushing at the fact that his lover's friend was hanging off him when he was so obviously upset. Calling over his shoulder, the Frenchman was there in no time.

"Matthew? What happened?" Francis asked, worry in his voice. What had happened in the ten minutes that he had been away to have affected him this much? "Arthur, if you could... check on your tea, to make sure it is not boiling over?"

Getting what Francis was trying to say, Arthur nodded. "Yes, my tea. I will just go check it now." As much as he wanted to know what got the small blond upset, he knew it wasn't his place to interfere.

"Francis..." He spluttered past his choking sobs. "_I... I told him."_

Understanding immediately, Francis gave a small nod and patted his back. "What did he do?" He really didn't think Alfred would say something like he didn't want him anymore because of it, so he was curious what had Matthew crying like this. But, if it truly was Alfred's fault, he would need to speak with him.

"_Nothing! I knew he wouldn't be able to say anything, so I didn't say it before! He didn't need to know about my father, so I never said anything. Francis, I love him too much to have him think differently of me now. I know he won't let me do housework as often and will insist on helping more when I don't want him to! And..."_ This is where Matthew paused his rant in French for a moment, "_I ran away... I can't talk to him, but I know I need to..."_

Also speaking in French, Francis tried comforting him. "_Put yourself in his shoes. He probably didn't want to hurt you further by saying something wrong._" It didn't seem like Alfred was at fault, it was just that he was hopeless in emotional situations. Similar to his own lover.

Pausing for a second as he thought it over, Matthew swore under his breath. Francis was right. Alfred was never one for emotions, why would he decide to be now? "Can I borrow your phone?" He needed to talk to Al as soon as possible before this completely ruined their relationship. He still loved Alfred, but he wished he wasn't so defencive about his past.

Nodding, Francis got one of the phones. As long as Matthew was happy with the way things were, then he would be fine with having to deal with him coming over and using him to cry on. "Don't hold it against him. You know he is trying his best."

Matthew nodded back as he punched in their phone number. After it rang three times, his eyebrows furrowed as he heard the message. "Hi... Al... It's me... You can pick up the phone now... I'm sorry I ran off... I... I just didn't know what to do or say... I haven't even told Ludwig that yet..." Getting nervous that Al wasn't there anymore, he added. "I'm coming home." Before hanging up. He was going to have to be fast to find Al.

Hearing what he said, it was obvious he was talking to the machine. Francis took the phone back and hung it up. "Want me to walk you home?"

"It's ok, I'll run back." Matthew said. "I'm sorry for doing this again... Never forget just how much I care about you Francis. I feel like I don't do enough for you."

Giving a small smile, Francis kissed the top of his head. "You are such a joy to be around, that is reward enough." Even if he knew it wouldn't change how Matthew thought of himself.

Saying goodbye quickly to Arthur as well, Matthew ran out of the building and made his way back home with tears drying on his cheeks. He was too wrapped up in getting home to care about the tears that were cooling down his face.

It seemed to take even less time to get home, and when he was he immediately yelled out for Alfred. Hearing nothing, he looked around until he saw a note on the counter.

_Matt, I'm sorry for not saying anything. I know you deserve someone who knows what to say in these situations, but you got me. Please forgive me, cause I don't wanna give you up, and I love you. Bye._

_P.S. If you still love me, give me a big hug and kiss what I get home.  
_  
Falling to the ground, Matthew's eyes released another storage of tears. How could he have snapped at Al like that? At least by the note it didn't seem like he was going away forever, so he still had a chance to apologize and tell him just how difficult it was to tell him that. Sure many people had gone through it, but he tried to live life without that fact.


	21. Chapter 21

Quietly opening the door, Alfred peered into the dark house. For the last two hours, he had been hitting the shit out of a punching bag at the gym, until they forced him out because they were closing. He kept picturing it as Matthew's father, the image changing the whole time, going from a large Russian, to and old fat guy, and morphing further. He hadn't even realized how late it was.

Seeing a shape asleep on the couch, he made his way over there. Hopefully he would have seen his note, and not be mad at him any longer. He was about to shake Matthew awake, but figured he probably needed his sleep. Instead, Alfred slipped his hands underneath him, lifting him up carefully.

Slowly coming out of his sleep, Matthew blinked groggily to find himself being carried to bed. "Al?" He mumbled, shifting slightly in the hold.

"Hey." He smiled down at him, hoping he had forgiven him already. If not, he was perfectly fine with sleeping on the couch, or whatever. But Matthew should have the bed, because he really needed the sleep.

Not forgetting the note, he reached up behind Alfred's neck and brought their mouths together slowly; making sure their glasses wouldn't knock together. It felt so much better since he knew it was to show just how much he loved his boyfriend, plus they hadn't been this close for a while.

Closing his eyes gratefully, Alfred kissed him back. Good, he was forgiven. He hated it when they fought, it always felt so horrible. He made it to the bedroom, and it was a good thing the door was open. He sat Matthew down on the bed, still kissing him.

Flicking his tongue out against his boyfriend's lips, Matthew slowly took off both of their glasses and placed them on the side table before they would get in the way. He was extremely glad that Al wanted to make up, since he felt terrible about his outburst before.

Pulling back slightly, Alfred smiled. "So I guess you forgive me?" He was extremely happy at that. At the gym he had tried to not think about it, focusing instead on his anger at Matthew's father.

"I do... And I'm sorry... I shouldn't have gotten so upset..." Matthew mumbled, holding their faces together. Now he didn't want to be left alone, especially since he didn't want to feel abandoned. Not after saying what he did.

"It's not your fault." Maybe he could like take lessons in being a better boyfriend or something. Francis would probably be willing to teach him. He seemed better at stuff like that, and might be able to teach him how to cook as well! Although he feared that was a lost cause.

Deciding not to argue that fact right now, Matthew just pulled lightly on Alfred's shirt. "Sleep with me please." He didn't want to sleep in their bed by himself, not when he knew so much about his past now.

"Of course." Well, he figured he knew enough about his past for now. At least he wouldn't make any stupid mistakes, making Matthew feel bad or something. He couldn't believe his father called him a fat ass! No wonder he turned bulimic!

Pulling Alfred down onto the bed, Matthew took of his shirt before snuggling close to his boyfriend. "I'm sorry I acted so selfishly." He mumbled, breathing in Al's scent.

Entangling their legs, Alfred rubbed his feet with Matthew's, knowing his feet were always cold. "Don't apologize."

.oOo.

The more Matthew went to the doctor, the less he felt bad about what he had gone through. Eventually, he felt open enough to discuss it with Al; through tears, but nonetheless he told him. It was still a general knowledge, but it made their relationship stronger, instead of weaker like Matt used to think it would. As well, he stopped freaking out at every pound he gained, instead worried just about looking fit instead of being skinny.

"What do you want to do?" Matt looked down as he asked his lover, who was absently reading the Canadian's newest novel strewn across his lap. Finally admitting to his bulimia had made it easier for him to write, and the book had been out for a couple of days and was selling well.

"Oh come on, I'm finally reading a book and you wanna take me away?" Alfred said, laughing. Sure, it took him longer to read them than it took Matt to write them, but they were still good. He put the book down, looking up. "Well, we could start with you kissing me."

"First of all, you know how embarrassed it makes me to see you reading my books. And second I said you, not we." Still, Matthew couldn't help but smile and lean down to capture Al's lips in a short kiss.

Alfred gave a small laugh as he pulled away. "Why does it make you embarrassed? If it's good enough to keep _my _interest, then these are like the best books ever." He had suggested to put Matthew's face on the back, but he wouldn't have it. They looked up when the door bell rang.

Waiting for Al to move off his lap, he frowned. They didn't expect anyone over, so who could that be? Maybe it was some random selling things door to door. It wasn't until Matthew opened the door that his eyes went wide and his entire posture changed. Though... It couldn't have been possible... "Sorry but, who are you?"

The man stood there, annoyed incredibly that he had to do this. "Matthew? I'm your father."

Not wanting to believe it, he just laughed awkwardly. "Sorry but that's impossible." His mind was on high alert though, urging Al not to wonder what was going on and come over to see. God, anything but that. Still, his hands clenched tightly as he put on a strained smile.

Giving a sigh, Bill looked away, not even wanting to do this. "Look, I'm trying to stop drinking, so I need to reconcile with everything. So I'm sorry." There, he had said it. Now he was finished, and only had to wait for his son to say he forgave him. He had found his name on the back of a book, and had gone from there.

"Sorry?" He asked slowly, still at disbelief with everything that was happening. "_Sorry?_ Why should you be sorry? Why don't you tell me that first." Not like he could ever forgive his father for what he did to him. The only thing he could say he was proud of him for was that he never raped or molested him.

Hearing a commotion at the door, Alfred went there, curious. He saw a man there, and Matthew was clenching his hands so tight he was worried they would bleed. "What's up?" He asked, wary of the man.

Bill ignored the question, glaring at his son. "Hey, I came all the way here to say sorry, ok? Aren't you fucking happy now?" Why was he acting like he was angry, when he wasn't the one who had to come all the way from Canada?

"How could I be happy with a 'sorry'?" Matt asked, ignoring Al as well. "Is that all you thought it would take to make me forgive you? To forgive everything that you did?" True he was upset, but he kept his voice at a normal level. Only a few months ago and he would be grovelling at the man's feet, not wanting to upset him. Now he knew that he didn't control his life any more and that he had people that cared about him more than his own father ever did or could.

Suddenly taking in a breath, Alfred grabbed Matthew's arm. "Is... is this your dad?" He glared at the man, hatred filling him all at once. This was the man that had fucked his lover up so much! He stepped forward, grabbing his shirt and raising a fist. "You fucking bastard!"

Grabbing onto Al's arm, Matthew pulled them apart. "Stop it! Go sit down and let me deal with him." He said icily, never taking his hard gaze off his father's face. This was finally it. This was the time when he could show him just how much he didn't need him, and that despite all the harsh words, he had lived a normal life with friends and a lover. It was better than anything his flesh and blood could do, even if he did suffer from an eating disorder for a long time.

Both were surprised at the harshness in Matthew's voice. Alfred didn't move from his side, only reluctantly dropping his arms. But at the look from his lover, he knew he had to do this alone. "I'm going to be seconds away. If you need anything."

Bill glared at him. What was this guys problem, and why was his son living with another man? "Deal with me? _You're_ gonna deal with _me_? Yeah right, like you could ever deal with anything." Why did he have to say sorry to this ungrateful brat, anyways?

"Maybe I couldn't before, but if you haven't noticed _I've changed_." Matthew spat, sparks flying between them. "I'm not the same pushover I used to be." At least, he wasn't as bad as he used to be as a child. He was glad for Al's support, but he could tell his father was disgusted by the fact that his son turned out to be homosexual.

Seeing Alfred go to punch him again, Matt glared at him. "Don't bother. He's not worth it. Hell, he doesn't even _deserve_ it."

Taken aback, Bill let out a small grunt. "What the fuck, you say that about your own father? You know what, I take back the sorry. You deserved everything that happened when you were a kid, cause hell I busted my back all day long so we could live. Don't give me this shit." He turned around, not wanting to see those two... fags a second longer.

"Fuck off, you fucking dick! If I see you again I'm gonna fucking rearrange your fucking face!" Alfred yelled after him, holding Matthew. How could that bastard say that? Fuck, now he was even more pissed! "Matt, you ok?"

"You know what," Matthew, making sure that his father had stopped to listen even with his back turned. "I did deserve it. I deserved it when you blamed me for my mom leaving and made me do everything around the house. I deserved every single time you hit me or beat me up mentally. You know what? My life has been shit lately because of you, but I still deserve it. After all, becoming bulimic because I felt it was the only way to have people love me was my own fault, not yours."

After pausing, Bill just kept walking, not looking back.

Alfred pulled Matthew back inside, closing the door. He didn't want him to see that son of a bitch any longer. If it hurt him so much to even talk about his father, he couldn't even imagine what he was feeling now. "Matt..."

Standing still, Matt mumbled. "He found me..." His mind was running so fast that it all of a sudden shut down and only allowed the biggest thoughts to prevail. "He fucking found me..."

Not knowing what to do, Alfred put his arms around the Canadian. Knowing that he couldn't keep silent, unless he wanted a repeat of that one time, he patted his back. "But he's gone now, so it will be fine."

"He knows where I live. He probably knows where Francis is too... And... I told him... I told him I'm sick..." God, now he was probably going to up the ante and rape him or something; thinking he didn't abuse him enough as a child.

"Hey, I will be right here. I won't let him do anything." Alfred said, now stroking his back. If that shit head ever did anything to his Matthew again, he was a dead mother fucker. And not just shooting him either. No, he would find a way to make him suffer.

* * *

Ahhh! I just scared myself by realizing that this is the second last chapter!


	22. Chapter 22

Seeing his father was like waking up from a nightmare, only to see that it was actually real life. His child hood was just a distant bad dream to him, but now Matt realized that it was the truth. What happened back then had resurfaced. Honestly, he was quite surprised that he didn't try to hit him again. "I'm tired." He mumbled, still not showing any emotion.

Leading him to the bed, Alfred wouldn't let his lover go. Not after that. "Do... do you want me to call Francis?" In truth, he wanted to help Matthew by himself, but with something this big he should probably call in the expert.

Feeling as if his stomach was squeezing onto itself, he just shrugged. "Doesn't matter." Really, he felt as if he should be crying desperately, but he had no tears to spend. His entire body felt drained and weak. All he wanted to do now was sleep.

Biting his lip, Alfred let him lay down. But he didn't want to leave to get the phone so he stayed there. "Wanna... talk about it? Or we could lay here, or talk about something else." He was trying to come up with other things they could do, wanting to make him feel better.

"I want to sleep." He said quietly, curling up in a ball on his side. Matt wanted to talk, but didn't feel like it would help anything right now. His father now knew just where he lived, and that thought alone made him scared.

"Um, ok, do you want me to stay with you? I should probably stay with you." He was worried about him and didn't think he should leave him, but if Matthew wanted him to...

Matthew just grunted a quick. "Doesn't matter." Before trying to slow down his racing mind. One moment his life was finally getting better for real, and then it goes and crashes around him.

Laying down next to him, Alfred wrapped his arms around Matthew. "I love you, I love you so much. I love you enough to replace your whole family, so just forget him, alright? Only look at me." He whispered, needing to say something.

"I wish I could." He hiccoughed, the first few tears of many slipping from the corner of his eyes.

Swearing in his head, Alfred wiped the small drop of water from his face. He hated it when Matthew cried. "Hey, it's ok, it will all be ok. Say that, will you? It will all be ok."

Shaking his head, he let out a shaky laugh along with a few more tears. "But it won't be. It won't be alright." He knew where he lived. He came from Canada to find him. If that wasn't the worst of it, he apologized for his own gain, not because he actually felt that way. That's why it wouldn't be alright. Before he could pretend like his father felt bad about everything, but now he knew it was a lie.

Closing his eyes, Alfred tried to think of something to say. "He is going back to Canada, and we live here. It's gonna be alright, because I love you, and you love me, and he will never be back." Because he was just a bully, who had no qualms about beating up a defenceless boy, but was probably afraid of Alfred, who could actually give him a fight.

"All I ever wanted was a family. A dad and a mom. Is that too much to ask for?" He mumbled, holding on tightly to his boyfriend. If anything, he was the closest he ever got to a loving family. The closest other than Francis that Matthew ever felt was like a father to him in a strange way. "All I ever wanted was a daddy..."

Trying to comfort him with his body as much as possible, Alfred knew that would be the best way. He wasn't good with emotions, so couldn't comfort him much with words. "You can tell me anything, I will still love you."

Nodding, Matt took a deep breath. It was now or never, and after seeing the source of his problems he figured he could tell Alfred anything. "I just wanted a normal family when I was little. Instead I had a mother who ran off with some bastard and a father who would use me as a slave. No one caught on though, since he always made sure I did my homework and got straight A's and generally acted so polite no one gave me any heed if I had a black eye or another cast on my arm."

"So that is why you said you had been in a hospital before?" Alfred asked, remembering when Matthew had been dehydrated. Right now, he wasn't sure whether he should stay silent and let Matthew talk, or say things, so he decided he would say things.

"That or when I got concussions or needed stitches. I played a bit of hockey too with money from my spare jobs when my father was too drunk to notice I wasn't home, but mostly I was in the hospital from my father. I'm amazed the doctors never guessed it." He added with a bitter laugh. "I was so invisible that they didn't even remember me half the time."

His heart clenching, Alfred once again got the feeling of wanting to have saved him from all that. "God, Matt, I'm sure they..." They would have had to at least notice!

Holding tighter onto Al, he just replied with venom. "They didn't. No one did. Not even my dad. He would _yell_ at me when he saw the cast on my arm, or leg, or other body part, saying I was weak and fat and didn't deserve to be related to him. Now I know he was right."

"No! You know what, you _don't_ deserve to be related to him! A fucking child molester doesn't even deserve to be related to that jerk!" Alfred said, not even thinking. "You deserve to be related to... George Washington! Or someone else amazing, and awesome, and almost as great as you are!"

"I was one of the lucky ones, you know. He never touched me or raped me. Many people have told me just how lucky I was to only have my body broken and abused without it being sexual." He continued to mumble, still knowing he had to tell Alfred all of this, but not knowing just what he was going to say just yet.

"Good thing he didn't fucking touch you, or you wouldn't have been able to stop be from breaking every bone in his body and ripping his dick off." Alfred mumbled, not sure if Matthew should actually hear what he was saying or not.

Well, if he was saying all of this, Al deserved to know everything. "Do you know why Francis and I are such good friends? He helped me through all of this. He was the reason I got to the hospital nine times out of ten. His parents would tell my father that I was sleeping over instead of me having to ask. And..." This was the part he told Ludwig with no hesitation, but felt like Al would overreact to. "I tried to kill myself when I was seventeen and he stopped me."

Gasping, Alfred couldn't help himself. He had never even thought... what if he had succeeded? "God... How?" He needed to know, he just did. His arms tightened more around Matthew, unconsciously holding him closer to save him from the demons of his past.

Unable to look at his lover's face, he mumbled. "Overdosing on sleeping pills. Just like falling asleep; quick, painless. Francis promised me that when I turned eighteen he would move with me to America to get away from him."

Blinking, Alfred put his head down onto Matthew's shoulder. Another thing he had to thank Francis for, it seemed. He really deserved a reward for being the best possible friend.

Shuddering, Matthew paused for a second, absorbing all that he told Alfred. "My father did provide for us though. We always had a nice home and enough food. I was expected to pay for using it by taking care of the house, cooking, doing yard work and keeping up in my studies. I also exercised most nights since he would always complain I was too fat."

Wincing at the last comment, Alfred kept his head there. How could his father possibly call him fat, when he himself had an enormous beer belly? "You're perfect, Matt. So perfect. I love you." He would say that as much as possible, needing Matthew to fully understand how much he loved him.

"When I'm skinny, everyone does. Except him. No matter how thin I was, he would always say that I was taking advantage of the food he provided and I didn't do enough to make up for it. I was so scared... When I moved down here, I thought that everyone would be the same way. The skinner I was, the more people -the more _you- _would love me."

Lifting his head, Alfred quickly kissed him on the lips, lasting for a few seconds. "Don't think that way, because it's not true. Everyone loves you, and it has nothing to do with how skinny you are. And I love you so much, and would even love you if I had never met you."

Salty tears pearling in the corners of his eyes, Matt shook his head. "That's impossible Al. How could you love someone you never met." It was nice to change the topic, after finally releasing all of that to Alfred. He never used to think about telling him, since it never felt important. Now that he actually told him though, it felt better; as if they were closer because of it.

"Because I love you so much, that there would be no way I could ever not love you, even if we hadn't met. I would love you without even knowing it, just knowing someone important was missing from my life." Alfred didn't even know what he was saying anymore, just wanting to get it all out and make Matthew accept his love fully.

Breaking down completely now, Matt hung onto Al and sobbed quietly into his chest. This wasn't fair. What made him deserve someone so caring and devoted as Al? All his life he got the short stick, that now he felt undeserving of him. Sure he loved him with all his heart and Alfred was the same, but it was too much for him right now.

Hoping he was crying out of happiness now, Alfred held him delicately, whispering small things to make him feel better. Then, he suddenly got an idea. Sure, it was rash and everything, but he knew instantly it was what he wanted to do. "Matt... you said you wanted a family. So, why not become a part of my family?"

"What?" He asked through the lump in his throat. Surely Al didn't mean that... Plus wouldn't it be awkward, since it would make them brothers if Matt became a part of his family. What if his parents decided they didn't like him now that he was sick?

"Marry me. I know I said it before, but I'm serious. We could go to Canada, or there are a few states that allow gay marriage!" Alfred gave a hopeful smile. His family already accepted them, even if they had been a little shocked at first. They liked Matthew, so they would love having him as a son in law.

"M-Marry?" He stuttered, unsure just what brought this up. "But... You... I... You know how fucked up I am now... But you still..." Unsure just what to think, Matthew stayed still. Of course he wanted to get married, but why did Al?

Taking his face in both his hands, Alfred got his boyfriend to look at him. "You're not fucked up, your father is. And I love you, so of course I wanna marry you." If only this country allowed gay marriage. But they could still work something out.

A few shallow breathes later and Matt quickly brought their lips together despite the tears flowing down his face. "How could I not say yes?" With him, he never would have to worry about his past, or his problems. Al would let him talk about them, without judging Matt. Even if he didn't feel as if he deserved him, what better person would there be for him?

Smiling, Alfred kissed him back. He knew this wouldn't fix everything, but maybe it would make Matthew feel more secure. It was the best way of showing him his love, so it worked.

* * *

Man, this story is over, my lizard died, this day sucks! But oh well, we hope everyone liked it! We wanted to leave it here, because this is the beginning of Matthew's new life, it really is. Thanks for reading!


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